


Once You Go Red...

by Gwenpools_Aesthetic



Category: Daredevil (Comics), Daredevil (TV), Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Avengers Tower, BAMF Claire Temple, Bisexual Matt Murdock, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, College Student Peter Parker, Come Eating, Deadpool Thought Boxes, Deadpool being Deadpool, Gay Peter Parker, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, M/M, Multi, Pansexual Wade Wilson, Peter parker is an adult, That is Really Important, Threesome - M/M/M, Wade Wilson Breaking the Fourth Wall, minor daddy kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:21:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 35
Words: 123,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22101730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gwenpools_Aesthetic/pseuds/Gwenpools_Aesthetic
Summary: “Listen!” Matt huffed. “It just… It doesn’t work, ok? I can’t… We’re too different. We’re too different, Wade.” He turned towards Pete. He wanted to reach out, to put a hand on his arm, to comfort him. He could taste the salt of the tears welling up in Pete’s eyes. He could hear his breathing starting to come rough. Hell, he could practically feel the kid’s heart breaking. “We’re all too different. It has to stop.”Wade stared at him, dumbfounded. “The fuck you mean we’re too different? It doesn’t work? I know you’re blind but - bullshit. You really can’t see it? We’re perfect for each other. We complement each other. We fit, Matty. We fit together like three fucked up pieces to a completely fucked up puzzle. He’s neutral good. I’m chaotic neutral. And you, Darkness, you’re a chaotic dumbass.”ORThe misadventures of Matt Murdock, Wade Wilson, and Peter Parker, idiots in love...
Relationships: Clint Barton/Franklin "Foggy" Nelson, Frank Castle/Karen Page, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Matt Murdock & Peter Parker & Wade Wilson, Matt Murdock/Peter Parker, Matt Murdock/Peter Parker/Wade Wilson, Matt Murdock/Wade Wilson, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
Comments: 646
Kudos: 908





	1. One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENTS!
> 
> 1\. This is my take on a comics inspired Matt Murdock, who is canonically a lot sluttier than Netflix Matt Murdock. (As one of my friends said once, "Dude seems like he's trying to fuck his way through the 616"). I'm still picturing Charlie Cox when I write him, tho, BECAUSE WHO WOULDN'T?!?!?
> 
> 2\. Don't try to figure out where in the timeline this fits. It doesn't. Matt is younger. Pete is Older. Endgame never happened. Infinity War never happened. IDK Civil War never happened? Or maybe they all just made up? The Avengers live in the tower together, though, and everyone is happy and nothing hurts.
> 
> 3\. PETER PARKER IS 20 YEARS OLD. This is so important to me. That being said, Pete is 20, Matt is 28, and Wade is 34 in terms of appearance and 60-70 actually, so there are still some serious age differences. Also Matt is hella attracted to Pete even when he thinks Pete is younger than that. The confusion gets resolved fairly quickly, but still... if that bothers you at all, you've been warned.

There was nothing in the world that sounded quite like a human body falling into a dumpster. It was a sound that Matt was deeply, deeply familiar with. It was a sound that he had created on more than one occasion, both as the person causing the fall and as the person doing the falling. This time, however, and he hoped thankfully, he was not responsible for the sound occurring. He focused his senses. Problem was, and yeah this was a bit rude to acknowledge but that didn’t make it any less accurate, if it wasn’t him hitting the dumpster or doing the hitting, then there was a good chance it was…

Matt heard the groan first, followed by a whisper of his name. “ _ Matty.” _

“I’m coming, buddy,” Matt said quietly, to himself. The man in the dumpster couldn’t hear him half the time when they were in the same room; he certainly couldn’t hear Matt from across town. 

Matt found him a few blocks east of the Kitchen. He had at least four broken ribs - they rattled when he breathed - his shoulder was dislocated, and… fuck… there was bullet in his leg. The injured man was applying pressure and had stopped most of the bleeding, but Matt could smell the bullet rubbing up against the bone. He lifted the lid to the dumpster. 

“Ah fuck; you came.“

“You called me, man.“

“Yeah, but I was hoping you wouldn’t come. Now I suppose you have to tell him.“

“Where’s your bag?”

“‘S in here with me.“ Clint kicked his foot, the leg that hadn’t been shot, and Matt heard the arrows rattle against each other. He jumped into the dumpster and Clint winced slightly when Matt’s landing shook the metal structure.

Matt dug in Clint’s quiver, pulled out a roll of bandages, and began to dress Clint’s wounds. And yeah, they’re in a dumpster so he probably should be sanitizing these, but on the other hand they’re in a dumpster so how much could it possibly matter anyway. “Where do you want me to take you? The Tower? Claire?”

Clint groaned. “Can’t you just deal with it?”

Matt’s voice was calm and measured as he continued to wrap bandages around Clint’s leg. “You’ve got a bullet in your leg and your left shoulder is dislocated. I can get the bullet out, but I might do more damage which means it would take longer to heal. I can also try to reset the shoulder, but it sounds pretty bad and you need that shoulder strong. I think you want a professional to do it.”

Clint grunted as Matt hoisted him to his feet and helped him out of the dumpster. “If I go to Claire,” he said, as they began to walk towards the street and out of the alley, “she’ll tell him.”

“Dude. That doesn’t even matter because you’re going to tell him. And you’re going to tell him because if you don’t then I have to and he’ll just get mad at me. Which would not be fair. Got it?”

Clint grumbled something that Matt knew was not words.

“Why don’t you want to go home?”

Clint was silent.

“What did you do?”

“Call Claire,” Clint sighed.

Matt pulled out his phone. “Call Claire.”

She answered after only one ring. “How bad?” 

“Not that bad. It’s Clint. He’s stable. He has a bullet in his leg but the bleeding has stopped, four broken ribs, and a dislocated shoulder. He’s walking. He’ll be fine. You around? If you’re busy, I can take him to the tower.”

“Put him on speaker.”

Matt handed Clint the phone. He didn’t need to put it on speaker; he could hear the conversation just fine.

“Hey, Claire…”

“Did you call him yet?” Claire interrupted.

“Matt literally just pulled me out of a dumpster,” Clint whined. 

“He’s there. He’s there before I get there or I turn around and go home and you can go get fixed up at the tower and tell Steve that you went after the Cartel even after he explicitly told you not to. Also, you owe me a bottle of tequila. Good stuff. No shitty Cuervo.”

“Fine,” Clint pouted. 

“See you at Matt’s. I’ll be there in 20 minutes.” Claire disconnected the call.

Clint stared at the phone in his hand for a moment, then turned to Matt as if asking to be saved. 

“This is all on you, pal.”

“I’m going to be in so much fucking trouble.”

Matt shrugged. “I warned you. I warned you not to start dating him.”

“He’s so cute though.”

Matt laughed at that. “How do you think I feel? Now I can’t sleep with either of you. Who am I going to call when things get desperate?”

“Matty, you just need to go to the bar. You’re pretty and you’ve got a good job. Everyone wants to fuck you.”

“Ugh. Going to a bar is so much work. It’s loud and smokey, and I have to put on pants. I’m better off just calling Jessica.”

“She’s going to break you one of these days.”

Matt grinned.

“Gross.” Clint stared down at the phone in his hands. “Fine.” He pushed the button to activate voice calling. “Call Foggy.”

***

“Clint!”

Foggy was already in Matt’s apartment when the two heroes dropped in through the skylight. 

“Clint. Baby. Oh my god are you ok? Come here. You look terrible.”

Clint shifted his weight from Matt’s shoulders to Foggy’s, and the two men carefully climbed down Matt’s narrow staircase to the living room below. Matt pulled off his cowl and ran his fingers through his hair while Foggy settled Clint onto the couch, the archer’s head resting in his lap. 

Matt listened. Clint was clearly in pain, but his heart and breathing were strong. He was going to be fine. Matt wanted to tuck himself into the couch between them, to learn what it might feel like to have both of their bodies pressing on him at the same time. Instead, he climbed down the stairs and opened the door for Claire before she had the chance to knock. 

“Matthew,” she greeted him, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek. She looked him over once, taking in the red suit disapprovingly, then moved towards the couch. “You going back out tonight?”

“Maybe,” Matt answered. “Hadn’t decided.”

“Well I only make one house call a night, so keep that in mind.” She turned to Clint. “And what happened to you?”

Clint smiled up at her from his place on the couch, Foggy’s fingers raking gently across his scalp. “You know, same old story. Met some guys. Had a disagreement. Fell off a building and into a dumpster. Just your typical Tuesday night.”

“Don’t forget to add ‘got shot in the leg,’” Matt reminded him. 

Claire looked between the two of them, then set to work on Clint. “I’m going to give you something to numb the pain,” she said quietly. “Pulling that bullet out is going to hurt like a bitch.” She gave him a shot near the wound, then began to work at setting his shoulder and ribs.

Matt did his best to tune them out. Claire was deep in thought, focused on her work, and Clint and Foggy’s quiet conversation wasn’t meant for him. Instead, he turned his senses outward towards the neighborhood. It was late and Hell's Kitchen was mostly quiet. There was an argument about a tab outside of Josie’s and there were some kids dealing pot on 53rd. A minor domestic dispute was occurring in an apartment on 44th, and Matt made a mental note to keep them on his radar, but it wasn’t anything that demanded his immediate attention. 

He grabbed a beer from the otherwise empty fridge and thought about Foggy and Clint. This thing between them had been building for a year now - ever since Marci left to go be a partner at a firm in L.A. - and he was glad that they’d finally gotten their shit together. Yeah, it meant he was losing both of his favorite fuck buddies in one swoop, but it also meant his two best friends were happy and that was probably more important. Probably.

The thing was, they were perfect for each other. It pained Matt’s black, jaded, isolationist heart to admit it, but they were probably soulmates or some shit. Foggy, for all his trying to convince the world that he’s a giant teddy bear, was a bossy little fucker in the courtroom and the bedroom. And Clint, for all his swagger, just wanted someone to take care of him and tell him he was wanted and good. Matt had been fully content filling both roles, but really it was like they’d been made for each other. Not that Matt believed in that sort of shit. But yeah, for as much as Matt hated to lose what he had, this was 100% what he’d hoped for when he introduced them. 

That didn’t mean it didn’t suck. Especially on nights like tonight when he hadn’t gotten a good fight in and he could feel that itch building under his skin. Clint was right; he could go to the bars, but by the time he was feeling that desperate - as was the case tonight - it was usually too late. Either the bars were already closed, or they were about to and everyone who was left wasn’t worth his time or energy. He considered, for a moment, calling Jessica, but Clint was right there too. She was a bit too rough for him on a normal night. Sure, there were times when that level of abuse was exactly what he needed, and he was happy to be there for Jess now that Luke was absolutely out of the picture, but not tonight. 

He sighed and went back to scanning the neighborhood. His building was totally quiet... 

...Except there was someone on his roof. 

Matt cocked his head, focusing on the space above his building. There was definitely someone up there. He wasn’t doing anything - just sitting quietly on the edge, legs dangling off the side. It’s not the first time Matt has noticed him, either. This guy has been popping up on Matt’s radar across the kitchen for a week now, and he was pretty hard to miss. He was enhanced; that much was obvious. His nervous system was all fucked up, and that was probably an understatement. Either this guy was not human, or there was something seriously wrong with him. Maybe both. 

It wasn’t quite clear if he was a vigilante or a villain either. He had twin swords strapped to his back, and enough firepower to make Frank jealous. He was costumed and masked, but his suit didn’t seem to provide any level of protection. Even Matt’s black suit was better. He could smell the spandex now that he was focusing, there didn’t appear to be any built in armor, and - in terms of the cut at least - the costume was pretty simple. Costumed villains tended to be a bit more flamboyant than a simple stretchy onesie…

Still, with that many guns, Matt felt safe assuming he wasn’t a good guy.

“You with us, Matt?” Claire pulled him out of his trance. 

“What?”

Claire shook her head. “I said he’s all done, but he probably shouldn’t move any more than necessary. Can he stay here tonight?”

Matt nodded. “Yeah, of course. Foggy, you guys can take my bed. I’ll crash on the couch.”

He could feel Claire eyeing him suspiciously as Foggy started to move Clint to the bedroom. “You ok?”

“Yeah. Just tired. Maybe I’ll call it an early night myself.”

“I mean, it’s after 3:30 in the morning, but sure. If that’s an early night for you…”

Matt smiled at her. “Thank you for your help. Do you want me to call you a cab? Walk you home?”

“Nah. I’m good.” Claire slipped on her coat. “Just be sure Bird-Brains gets me my tequila, ok?”

“You got it.”

Claire gave him a hug. When she pulled away, she held on tight to his shoulders. “And Matt, I know that expression. Don’t do anything stupid tonight, ok?”

“I’ll do my best.” 

By the time Claire was gone, the man on the roof had left too. Matt pulled his cowl back on and headed up there anyway. He was just going to track Claire, he told himself. To make sure she made it home safe. And if he also happened to search for the man with the swords, well that was just him being thorough. 


	2. Two

Morning was not great… basically ever… a fact exasperated that particular morning both by Foggy being super fucking chipper and Clint taking the entire coffee pot and drinking directly from it. There was a reason Matt lived alone.

Also, his friends were barbarians.

He considered, briefly, going in late - or potentially not at all - but they had opening arguments for three cases over the next two weeks and he had briefs that needed filing and research that needed completing. Plus, and probably most importantly, Foggy was currently at his apartment and therefore well aware that Matt was neither ill nor bleeding out. So he had dragged his ass out of the house, stopped at a Starbucks on the way to the office (because if he was going to die of Karen’s coffee, he may as well just stay asleep), and contemplated but ultimately resisted cracking open the bottle of Jack he had stashed in his bottom drawer for emergency Jessica bribage. 

Which was all to say that Matt was tired. Likewise, he was focused on his work. If either of those things hadn’t been true, he definitely would have noticed the kid as soon as he entered the building.

As it was, Matt didn’t realize anyone new was even there until he heard his own name.

“Hi. Um… I was told to ask for Mr. Murdock? Tony Stark sent me. I’m an intern at Stark industries...”

Oh shit. That was him. His hands flew to his day planner, tracing the notes he had written there. No appointments that he knew of. Quickly, he reached out with his senses and assessed the boy talking to Karen.

Ok, maybe “boy” was a little aggressive, but he was young - Matt guessed 17 or 18. His voice was on the higher end of the scale and he was small both in terms of height - probably 5’8” or so - and in build. The kid was lean, but he was strong. Holy fuck was he strong. Enhanced, for sure, and Matt wasn’t just assuming that because Stark sent him. His muscles were like steel cables… if steel cables were also extremely flexible. He wasn’t doing much, just shifting nervously from foot to foot, but even that he did that with the grace of a dancer. The way his muscles moved… the noises they made… it was hypnotizing. 

It was also familiar in a way that Matt couldn’t quite place, his memory fighting him through his exhaustion. His voice… Matt was sure he’d never heard that voice before, but the way he moved tugged at something in Matt’s memory. He should recognize him… 

_ Fuck, Matt, you’re being super creepy right now,  _ he thought, shaking himself out of his own head and quickly trying to fix his hair and tie.

He had only a moment, really, between when the kid spoke and when Karen replied, “hold on,” and knocked on Matt’s office door. She pushed it open and stuck her head in. “Hey Matt, there’s somebody here to…”

“Yeah, I heard. Thanks. You can send him in.” 

Karen opened the door wider to let the kid in, and Matt stood and shook his hand. His grip was firm and his skin was soft and - oh shit - Matt absolutely could not let himself think about what those hands would feel like on him because this was a child and he was a grown man and none of that was ok. 

And the way he smelled… As a general rule, the odor of other human beings fell somewhere on a scale of one to ten, with ten being “This Is Not Great” and one being “Oh God I’m Going To Vomit Until I Die.” Body odor and garlic breath and poor hygiene were real. Showering twice a week was absolutely not good enough. Matt tended to surround himself with people who he could rank as an 11 or higher. Foggy, when he’d been eating well which - Matt admitted - was only about 40% of the time, smelled faintly of apples and tweed and fancy cured meats. He was a solid 13. He’d categorize Foggy on a junk-and-fast-food-free-day as “This is Totally Acceptable.” Clint almost always smelled like coffee and pizza, both of which were things that Matt loved, with an underlying base of grass and popcorn. Even when he smelt like Lucky, which wasn’t as much anymore since Kate had basically claimed the dog as her own, it wasn’t a bad dog smell. Just warm, and maybe a little bit like Fritos. Clint was a 15, or “I Could Probably Wake Up To This Every Morning And Not Want To Scream.” Karen… well Karen was a solid 18, which was the highest score he’d ever given. She smelled of rain and dirt and a little like maple syrup. Karen smelled like “Why Isn’t This What Everyone Smells Like All The Time?”

But this kid… this kid scored 100 and up until just now Matt had assumed his scale only went up to 20. He smelled like fresh air and silk, and just a little bit sweet like vanilla ice cream. 

“Mr. Murdock…”

Was Matt imagining or did the kid’s heart skip a beat? His breathing was definitely shakey. Probably just nervous...

“Please, call me Matt. And you are?”

“Peter. Peter Parker. Thank you for seeing me without an appointment,” Peter said, taking a seat.

“No worries, Peter. We don’t really stand on formality around here. Can I get you anything to drink? There’s coffee or water.”

“No. I’m fine… thank you…” Peter trailed off. Matt could feel his nervousness.

“Tony Stark sent you?” 

Peter looked up at him, surprised.

“I heard you tell Karen.”

“Oh.” Peter looked down at his hands. Matt could tell now that he was wearing heavy, metal bracelets around each wrist. It was definitely some sort of technology that he’d never seen before. Obviously some sort of Stark Tech. What was this kid into? “Yeah. He… He said I could trust you, Mr. Mur… Matt. It’s hard for me. I’m not used to telling people...” And it wasn’t that hard to infer what he wasn’t used to telling people about.

“I understand that, Peter. I really do.” Tony Stark didn’t know that Matt was Daredevil, so it was safe to assume Peter didn’t either. Most of the Avengers didn’t. Clint did, Steve Rogers and Bucky, and Natasha of course, but that was it. It was safer that way, for him and for Karen and Foggy, but a part of Matt was ready to toss all of that out the window, to share his secret, just to help this kid feel better in this moment. 

“You know I took on Mr. Barnes’s case,” Matt said instead. “And I worked on undoing the Sokovia Accords. I helped Clint with his property fiasco a few years back. Clint and I are friends. He’s… I mean he might come in to the office any moment. He’s dating my law partner. Did Mr. Stark tell you that?”

Pete shook his head and then, realizing his mistake, answered: “um… no, he didn’t.”

“Natasha and I go way back, too,” Matt continued. “I helped her get some old charges cleared from her record years ago when I was still in law school. My point is, I get it. Whatever secrets you feel you need to keep, I totally understand. And I’m not going to pressure you into telling me anything. But, whatever you do tell me stays 100% between us, and not just because of attorney-client privilege, but because protecting the kind of people Tony Stark sends my way is the most important thing that I do.”

Peter took a shaky breath. His hands were resting on Matt’s desk, and Matt desperately wanted to reach out and take them in his own, but he didn’t because that would be creepy and he was decidedly not being creepy towards this kid. 

“Ok…” Peter said after a moment’s pause. “So, I’m Spider-Man.”

Matt tried not to react with his face. He’d known the kid was enhanced - known to be expecting something to do with the Avengers - but he hadn’t been expecting that. He knew the things Spider-Man was capable of. He’d caught a train for fuck sake. Spider-Man was not a kid. I mean, it was right there in the name: Spider- _ Man _ .

Not only did he know of him, not only had he heard and read the news stories, but he  _ knew  _ Spider-Man. Here, out of context, and with the limited amount of time he’d had… No wonder the kid seemed familiar. Matt could kick himself for not realizing it before. Hell, he’d fought alongside Spider-Man more than a few times. Sometimes, when things were slow in the Kitchen, he’d head on up to Queens just to see if he could find the guy. And Spider-Man did the same for Daredevil. He’d be minding his own business, fighting in an alley somewhere, when all of a sudden he’d feel the guy swing in overhead. Sometimes he’d help, but more often he’d just watch. They’d never spoken, though. Never once. Spider-Man would give him a knowing nod, and he’d respond back with his most charming smirk and then they’d be off on their own separate ways...

“I was out two days ago,” Pete continued, completely unaware of the mini-mental-breakdown Matt was having, “and I saw something that didn’t look right, over at the site of the new skyscraper that’s going up. The one on 8th Avenue.”

_ The one that is almost certainly being funded by Vanessa Fisk but we can’t prove it,  _ Matt thought. 

“It looked like they were hiding something in the foundation. It looked like bodies, Matt. I got pictures.” Pete began to pull his phone out of his pocket and then froze. “Oh… Shit. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I...”

“It’s ok,” Matt cut him off. “I’m not offended. Can we… is it ok if we show these to my associates? We don’t have to tell them how you got them. They won’t ask. I just need to know what we’re working with.”

Peter fidgeted for a moment. Then, “Yeah. Sure. Ok.”

“Ok. Great. Thanks.” Peter’s heart was racing and he was hot. Matt tried to tell himself it was just nervousness and not something more. He stood up, walked to his office door, and opened it. “Hey Karen. Can you grab Foggy and come in here for a minute?”

Matt walked back to his desk, sat down, still didn’t pick up Peter’s hands because he still wasn’t creepy, waited.

Foggy and Karen walked in a few seconds later.

“Ok.” Matt was all business. “So this is Peter and he’s got some pictures.” Matt was careful not to say that Peter had taken the pictures. He passed the phone to Karen. She gasped. Her heart rate spiked. Matt knew from her reaction alone that it had to be bad. It took a lot to shake Karen. “Are they enough that you can take them to Ellison? Maybe if he published them it could force an investigation.”

“Yeah,” Karen said quietly. “Yeah, they’re enough. Jesus, Matt. I… I’ll describe them to you later, ok?” 

“Yeah, of course.” 

Matt could hear the tapping of Karen’s fingers across the screen of Pete’s phone as she sent the pictures to herself and then she was gone. Matt felt her grab her coat and bag and head out the door. 

“Foggy, can you reach out to Clint? Don’t tell him why, but get him to come here. I want someone to walk Peter home.”

“I don’t need that. I can…” 

Peter sounded offended. Matt didn’t care. “If we’re right about who this is, then you’re in danger. I’m not willing to take any chances with that.”  _ I’m not willing to take any chances with you.  _ Matt didn’t say it out loud. 

“Yeah, pal. I’m on it.” 

Foggy stood up and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him. Matt could hear Peter’s heart pounding in his chest. The kid was mad. That was fine, Matt thought. He could be mad as long as he was also safe. Mad was better than the other option, too.

“I can take care of myself.” 

“Can I ask you a question?” Matt didn’t mean to say it out loud. The words came unbidden. 

Peter didn’t answer. Matt asked anyway.

“How old are you? When you’re out there, who's watching your back?”

“You mean aside from all the other Avengers?”

Matt knew enough to know what that meant. If everyone was watching your back, nobody was. “And when they’re not there? I listen to the news; you’re the Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man, isn’t that right? Single-handedly protecting Queens? Who’s got your back then? Listen, kid…”

“I’m not a kid.”

“Listen, kid. I’m thankful that Stark sent you our way, but I also hate him for it. It wasn’t necessary. It was reckless. Maybe Fisk’s people saw you take the pictures, maybe they didn’t. But they’re watching us so they definitely saw you come in here, which means you’re on their radar now for sure. Stark could have sent me the photos. He didn’t need to send you in. He didn’t need to involve you, but he did and that means you’re my responsibility now.” 

Peter just glared at him. 

“Do you live at the tower?”

Peter didn’t answer, but Matt could hear the answer in his heartbeat anyway.

“Stay there tonight. Don’t go out. Stay there tomorrow night, too. Let somebody else do the work. Go there and don’t leave the tower for anything.”

“I have school!”

Matt really didn’t want to think about that. He didn’t want to be reminded of how young this kid must be. “Fine. That’s fine. I’ll have someone follow you, to protect you.”

“Did you miss the part where I’m Spider-Man?” Peter hissed. “I don’t need your protection. I’m not a kid and I can protect myself.” Pete stood up.

“Just, wait... Please”

“You’re not the boss of me. I came here to help you.”

“And I’m thankful for that.” Matt tried to soften his voice. Peter seemed like he was about to run and that was the last thing Matt needed. “Just… look, we’ve been going after the Fisks for years now. All three of us have personally received death threats from Wilson Fisk, and he was very close to being successful twice. His wife is just as dangerous - maybe even more so. I just… I don’t think you realize what you’re up against here.”

“I appreciate it, Matt. I really do.” Peter sat back down.

Good, at least he was still talking. Matt didn’t think about the  _ other  _ reasons he wanted to keep him in his office as long as possible. 

“But it’s not the same,” Peter continued. “You and your co-workers… No offense, but you’re not Spider-Man. No, I’ve never gone up against Fisk before, but it’s not like I don’t know how to fight. I can take care of myself. And I’ve got the Avengers to back me up if I need them.”

“I suppose.” Matt was unconvinced. He thought for a minute. “Ok, but let’s still have Clint bring you home, ok? If for no other reasons than to keep up appearances and protect your identity with Foggy and Karen. If anyone else brought me evidence that could undermine Fisk, they would get the full protection detail; it would raise questions if you didn’t. Is that fair?”

“Yeah. I suppose that makes sense.”

“Ok. And Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“Is it ok if I check in with you? Make sure you’re ok? Even if you don’t need it, it would make me feel better.”

Matt heard Pete’s heart flutter at that and -  _ oh God _ \- he liked it just a little too much. Absolutely no good could come of this.

“Yeah, sure Matt. I’d like…” Pete stuttered. “That would be fine.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who read and commented on Chapter 1! Your comments give me life. They also encourage me to write faster and post more often.
> 
> Yes, this absolutely is a bit of a slow burn, but I hope you'll stick with me. I just want to set up the dynamics for these three and give them a chance to get to know each other. It's going to earn its M rating, I swear.


	3. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! If anybody knows how to make Wade's yellow internal dialogue boxes, please let me know. I've seen it done, and I even found a tutorial on how to do it using work skins, but I couldn't make it work.

Wade was stalking the rooftops like a lion on the hunt.

_ [You’re pacing and jittery.] _

_ Nobody asked you, asshole. _

_ [Also, the lady lions are the ones that do the hunting.] _

_ So? _

_ [So? You’re not a lady.] _

_ First off, I think that’s a myth. Second, don’t be fucking sexist.  _

_ [It’s a myth that you’re not a lady?] _

_ Fuck off. _

_ [Hey quick question. Why aren’t I yellow?] _

_ Because the writer couldn’t figure out how, ok? Just leave it. _

_ [Sounds like she didn’t try very hard but that’s none of my business…] _

Wade set aside the iced tea he was suddenly drinking and resumed pacing the rooftop. Everyone knew the Red Idiot liked to aggressively micromanage Hell’s Kitchen from the rooftops, and Wade figured that, if he hung out on one long enough, they’d just run into each other. So far that plan wasn’t working out very well, but he’d seen the Purple Dumbass around this building so it seemed like a good enough place to start. 

Honestly, Wade wasn’t even sure what he was doing here at this point. 

_ [Yes you are.] _

_ Shut the fuck up.  _

A lovely young lady who called herself Maki had hired him to kill the Red Idiot. It wasn’t hard to figure out that Maki was working for that Fisk woman. In fact, it was surprisingly easy to figure that out. Too easy. So easy that Wade was offended and that was the reason he’d decided to pocket the advance he’d been given and not kill…

_ [That’s not the reason.] _

_ WOULD YOU SHUT UP NOBODY IS TALKING TO YOU! _

The Red Idiot had, like, a really nice ass, ok? And Wade had a strict policy of not killing people with really nice asses. Especially when he thought there was a chance in hell that he could potentially touch said nice ass. And, yeah, the Red Idiot was a menace. He was real silky smooth when he was fighting, but the rest of the time he was throwing out some serious disaster-bi signals and Wade was there for it. 

Now he just had to find him. 

Wade sat on the edge of the rooftop, kicking his feet against the parapet.

_ [That’s a fucking fancy word.] _

_ It’s what it’s called. Also I hate you. _

Wade sat on the edge of the rooftop, kicking his feet against the parapet. He was bored, and this wasn’t working. Obviously hanging out on generic Hell’s Kitchen rooftops wasn’t going to be enough to get the Red Idiot to notice him. And if the Red Idiot didn’t notice him, he was almost never going to give Wade the opportunity to touch his perfect ass. Wade pouted. 

_ [You need a better plan.] _

_ Dude. I’m pretty sure that’s what the entire last narration block said. Maybe chill the fuck out, ok? _

_ [...] _

_ What? _

_ [I mean… nothing. There’s no need to be so mean to me is all. I was just trying to be helpful.] _

_ Jesus fucking christ you’re obnoxious. How am I supposed to think of a new plan when you won’t shut up?!? _

_ [Wow fine. Ok. I’ll just keep my ideas to myself I guess.] _

_ Fine. _

_ [Fine!] _

_ Great. _

_ [Great!] _

_ … _

_ [...] _

_...wait. _

_ [Wait what?] _

_ Did you say you had an idea? _

_ [What if I did? Why would I share it with you after how you’ve treated me?] _

_ God damn it, just tell me. _

_ [Why should I when you talk to me like that?] _

_ Seriously?!?? _

_... _

_ Ok. What about this? What if I promised to buy you tacos? _

_ [When?] _

_ After you tell me your plan. _

_ [Like, immediately after? I tell you the plan and then we go get tacos?] _

_ Well… I mean, maybe not IMMEDIATELY after. Is the plan time sensitive? Should we do the plan first and then go get tacos? _

_ [Probably. Yeah.] _

_ Ok. That, then. You tell me the plan, we’ll do the plan, and then we’ll go get tacos. _

_ [Getting tacos could actually work as a part of the plan…] _

_ OH MY GOD WOULD YOU TELL ME THE FUCKING PLAN ALREADY? _

_ [Jesus.] _

_ … _

_ [...] _

_ Listen, you should tell me the plan. This is a lot of italics and most people are reading on their phones. Too much italics on your phone is annoying. Plus they really just want to get to the smut parts. So let’s keep this moving, ok? _

_ [Yeah. That makes sense. Ok. So… The Red Idiot is a vigilante, right? Which means he fights crime?] _

_ Yeah. _

_ [So let’s go do some crime! Then he’ll come straight to us!] _

_ But if we do crime, won’t he not like us? We want him to like us. If he doesn’t like us, he might not want to let us touch his ass. _

_ [Well, we won’t do a bad crime. We won’t kill anybody or anything like that. We’ll just do enough crime to get him there, and then we’ll tell him it was all a ruse and we’ll be super charming, and then we can commence with the ass touching.] _

_ Like a baby crime? _

_ [Exactly. Like a baby crime.] _

_ What were you thinking? _

_ [Well… and stop me if you disagree… but, what if we robbed a taco truck?] _

_ Oh… You know what?  _

_ [What?] _

_ I love you. Let’s never fight again. _

_ [That seems unlikely.] _

_ Yeah, you’re right. It really does. _

***

Matt woke with a start. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep; he had plenty of shit to do. He had just intended to rest for a bit. He fumbled for his phone on the coffee table in front of him. “Time?”

_ “Nine Thirty-Seven P.M.”  _ his phone answered.

That wasn’t so bad. He had time to eat something and do a little case prep work before heading out for the night. He stood up from the couch, stretched, and took a few steps towards the fridge before freezing dead in his tracks.

_ The man on the roof was back.  _

_ And he had a bag of tacos? _

Matt dressed quickly, pulling on his suit and cowl, attention laser focused on the man above him. He was sitting on the ledge again, legs kicking, eating tacos. 

He was clearly a very odd man.

Matt considered heading out the skylight in his study, but decided against it. He didn’t need to risk the man noticing him and figuring out where he lived. There was nobody home in any of the apartments on his floor, and the sole elevator was currently out of service. Nobody was in the stairwell. He had time.

He slipped out of the door to his apartment and carefully opened one of the windows in the hallway. It wasn’t supposed to open, but some teenagers had broken off the locks months ago so they could get out onto the roof and smoke weed. It wasn’t safe. A little kid could fall out and die or something, but there weren’t any little kids who lived on his floor so the odds of that were pretty low. Probably he should call it in. Of the five tenants who shared the sixth floor with him, he was clearly the most responsible. But honestly, the super wasn’t going to fix it anyway so what did it matter? Plus, it gave him a secondary escape route should he ever need one. Since the window wasn’t supposed to open, it didn’t have a screen, and Matt hopped right out onto the ledge and climbed up onto the roof. It wasn’t as easy a climb as he’d expected it to be, and he decided that he’d call the window in tomorrow morning after all. All he needed was for those damned teenagers to slip and fall to their death. They could smoke their weed in the stairwell like normal human beings.

_ Except then his stairwell would stink like weed. _

Matt decided to leave the decision for respectable, morning time Matt Murdock. 

The man on the roof was sitting with his back to Matt, fully engrossed in his bag of tacos. His mask was pulled part of the way up, exposing his mouth and nose enough for him to eat. 

Matt took a moment to assess the man. There was something wrong with this guy. Really, really wrong. Like he was dying, wrong. He was sick with - Matt listened carefully - cancer, and a lot of it. His body should have been shutting down, but instead it was unbelievably strong. The guy’s muscles were past ridiculous and bordering on obscene. Matt thought for a moment about Bucky and Luke and Jessica, and the experiments that were done on them, and wondered if this guy was in the same boat. He was lucky, when he thought about it. Yeah, he wasn’t always happy that truck had spilled its wares all over him, but at the end of the day at least he didn’t have anyone to blame but himself. The asshole who did this to him was him, and that was a feeling Matt knew how to deal with.

Another thing about this guy on the roof was that he was not paying attention to his surroundings at all. Matt walked right up to him without his noticing. 

He cleared his throat.

“Holy fucking Christ on a cracker,” the man shouted, jumping to his feet and spinning on his heel. He wobbled slightly, audibly gulped (he actually said the word “gulp,” and Matt didn’t quite know what to do with that) and then intentionally leaned backwards off the edge of the building. 

Matt didn’t hesitate. He reached out and grabbed the front of the man’s spandex costume, hauling him back onto the rooftop by the stretchy material. 

The man staggered forward, falling into Matt’s chest, but to Matt’s surprise he didn’t pull away. He just stood there, pressing himself into Matt’s torso, making soft cooing noises and clinging to his bag of tacos.

Matt put a hand on the man’s shoulder and then took a step backwards, separating them. 

“You saved me!” the man sniffled. “You’re my hero!”

“Excuse me?”

“I was about to fall to my death, or some proximity there of, and you saved me! How will I ever repay you? And please, be creative.”

Matt opened his mouth and then shut it again, speechless. 

“Oh, I see. You’re shy.” The man lowered his voice and took a step towards Matt. “Don’t worry. We can come up with something together.”

“Do I know you?”

The man perked up. “Oh, wow! I hadn’t even considered that. I mean, I hope so? That would be a real confidence boost, if the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen knew little old me.”

“Why did you try to fall off the building?” 

“Don’t be ridiculous. Why would I try to fall off a building? What do I look like, a crazy person?”

Matt couldn’t read this guy at all and it was distracting. “Why are you following me?”

“Oh. You noticed that?”

“Yeah. I noticed that.”

“Well I’m flattered but also embarrassed.” He held out the bag. “Taco?”

Matt crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Who are you?”

“I’m Deadpool and I’m a really, really, really big fan. It’s just an unbelievable pleasure to meet you.” He held out his hand for Matt to shake.

Matt didn’t move.

The man let out a small huff and sat back down on the short wall running along the edge of the building, facing in this time. He tapped the space next to him, inviting Matt to sit. Matt stayed exactly where he was. Deadpool frowned. “Ok, hear me out. Promise you won’t get mad and punch me before you hear the whole story, ok?”

Under his mask, Matt rolled his eyes.

“I was hired to kill you by a woman named Maki Matsumoto, but don’t worry! I quickly figured out that sweet Maki was actually working for Vanessa Fisk, and that totally is against my policy. I don’t work for middle-men. Or middle-women. No middle people of any kind. Tops or bottoms only! Anyway, I had followed you for a bit before realizing my contract was null and void - you know, because of all the middling - and you seemed really nice and so pretty and I really like how you look when you kick things so I thought that maybe we could be friends, but then I couldn’t find you and I just wanted you to notice me, but now you’re telling me that you did notice me, which makes me really happy because I totally noticed you, so I was trying to get your attention and that’s why I stole these tacos.”

_ What. The. Actual. Fuck. _

And yet, there was something about this guy. Matt didn’t know what it was. His voice sounded honest, if not more than a little manic, and it was refreshing to have nothing else to go off of for once. 

Matt ran a hand across his brow, scratching at his hairline through his mask. It was deeply unsatisfying. 

“So what you’re saying is you were hired to kill me, you decided not to kill me, and then you stole tacos to… what? To impress me?”

“Exactly!!”

“Huh.” Matt sat down on the ledge next to Deadpool and held out his hand. A taco was placed into it, wrapped in aluminum foil. Matt unwrapped it and took a bite, and was unable to contain the small sound of pleasure that escaped his lips.

“I know, right?” Deadpool agreed around a mouthful of taco.

“Where are these from?” Matt asked, finishing his taco in three more bites and then digging in the bag for another.

“Conejitos. They’re in a pink truck. You can usually find them around 57th. Best taco this side of East Harlem, if you want my professional opinion.”

“Can’t say I’ve seen a pink truck rolling around, but I’ll be sure to recommend them.” Matt licked taco sauce off his fingers. “You’re going to have to pay them back, you know. For the tacos. Food trucks have really tight margins; if they go out of business because of you stealing all their inventory, I’m definitely not going to be impressed.”

Wade laughed. “I know. I’ll go there tomorrow and give them an envelope full of cash. I’m extra flush right now. I got paid upfront on a job I’m not going to do.”

Matt finished his third taco and considered the man sitting next to him. “Won’t you get in trouble for that? Not that I want you to finish the job, of course, but Vanessa Fisk… I’d hate to see her after anyone on my account.”

Deadpool shrugged and popped half a taco into his mouth. “She can’t do shit to me, so what does it matter?” he said, mouth full of food.

Matt found it strangely endearing. He pulled four more tacos out of the bag, then stood. “You like Thai food?” he asked. 

“Who doesn’t?”

“I will admit to being easily impressed by quality Thai food.”

Matt held back his smile until his back was to Deadpool. As he walked away, he gave a little extra sway to his hips and he heard the man whistle low and mutter under his breath, “Baby I hate to see you leave but I love to watch you go. Hashtag blessed...”

Maybe Matt could read the guy just fine after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing Deadpool is quite possibly my favorite thing that I have ever done. 
> 
> Also, Matt Murdock's ass also makes me feel #Blessed.


	4. Four

Pete ordered a sandwich at the counter and then sat down with a huff at a small table, back facing the door. He was off his game today. He was embarrassingly off his game today. First he had tripped and fallen getting off the bus, spilling the contents of his bag all over the grass and tearing a hole in his pants. Then he’d been daydreaming in his Nuclear Magnetic Resonance lab and his experiment had caught on fire, which shouldn't have even been possible. And THEN Felicia had come up and asked him if he wanted to go out to dinner with her and he’d gotten all tongue tied and just blurted out “I’M GAY,” which was fine but also wasn’t how he imagined coming out to his classmates. It wasn’t that it was a secret; it just hadn’t come up.

So, yeah. The day was basically a disaster and it was only lunchtime.

Actually, when Pete reflected on it, he realized that the day had crashed and burned well before he’d face planted on the ESU lawn. It had started that morning, in the common room at breakfast, when he’d very, very,  _ very _ casually asked Clint about Matt Murdock and all his hopes and dreams had come crashing down around him like so much day old webbing.

Apparently, Matt Murdock was extremely sex positive. Like, extremely extremely. In addition to being Clint’s best friend with benefits - which was definitely not a thing Pete needed to be thinking about - he was also Natasha’s ex and desperation booty call, had engaged in some sort of tryst with Thor, had offered Tony a celebratory blow job after the Sokovia accords were overturned (there was some disagreement on whether or not Tony had accepted), and had once had a threesome with Steve and Bucky. The six of them reminiscing about “the things that man can do with his fingers” was not an image that Pete ever wanted to think about ever, ever again. Unfortunately, he also couldn’t stop thinking about what those things might be and how they might feel. 

When he’d managed to ask how…  _ how!!!  _ an unenhanced lawyer had managed to endear himself to so many Avengers, Natasha had pulled him aside. It wasn’t just that Matt was attractive, which he obviously was, it was how charming he was - surely Pete had noticed it when he’d talked to Matt - and how forward. If he wanted something, Natasha explained, he went after it. It was the confidence that was so alluring. Plus, apparently under his fancy lawyer suit, the dude was totally stacked.

All of which sucked, because Matt had not gone after him at all - not even a little bit. Not by any stretch of the imagination. Sam, Bruce, Scott, and Pepper all had stories of their own. Not as much; just meeting the man and getting flirted with - coy smiles and lip bites and brushes of his hand against their own…

Pete had gotten literally none of that. 

He tried to convince himself it was because Matt was a professional and Pete had met him at his office, but he felt like it had been pretty clear fairly quickly that he wasn’t there as a client. Pete wasn’t suing anyone or getting sued or doing any of the other things that someone might need a lawyer for. He was just handing off information. Plus, Bucky HAD been a client, and that HADN’T stopped anything, so he was having a hard time selling himself on that theory. 

Matt thought he was a kid. He’d called him a kid several times in their short conversation. Matt saw him as a kid and was not interested. 

Pete sighed as his sandwich was set down in front of him. Wasn’t this just his luck. He’d spent the majority of his mid to late teens wishing he had less responsibility, that people would just let him be young and dumb and a teenager, that he could just be a kid, and now… now he was an Avenger and in Grad School and living the dream, and the hottest guy he’d ever seen had absolutely no interest in him whatsoever, because he was too immature. Pete took a bite of his sandwich, trying to savor the warm turkey and crunchy bread. 

It wasn’t even that Matt thought he was immature. It was worse than that. Matt thought he was weak. He’d admitted to being Spider-Man - basically revealed his deepest, darkest secret - and Matt had called Clint to walk him home and then told some chick to tail him. Like Clint was going to do anything to protect him. And this woman in the leather jacket who’d been following him all day, snickering at his life being a disaster while she drank out of a fucking flask? What was she going to do that he couldn’t? It was ridiculous. He didn’t need a babysitter. And  _ fuck.  _ Yeah, maybe Pete had gotten his hopes up just a little when Matt had asked if he could check in. It was something, you know? The guy wanted to talk to him again. That had to be a good thing, right?

No. All he got was a text saying that “Jessica” would be keeping an eye on him, and a picture of what she looked like, and a note not to worry. 

He didn’t want Jessica looking at him. He wanted Matt looking at him. Or, you know, doing whatever Matt did instead of looking. 

Pete took another bite of his sandwich and then looked up… directly into the face of Matt Murdock. 

_ Fuck. _

He quickly ducked, hiding his face before remembering that didn’t matter. He raised his head slowly, sandwich forgotten. Matt was still sitting there, face unchanged, eyes hidden by his red sunglasses. His hands were dancing over several pieces of paper that he had laid out on the table in front of him. 

This was so not cool. This was his coffee shop on his college campus. He did not need his crush-that-did-not-know-he-existed suddenly showing up in his safe spaces. 

A barista approached Matt’s table, dropping off a soup and a beverage, and Pete tried not to look like some sort of weirdo staring at them even though he absolutely was. It was loud in the coffee shop, so Pete couldn’t hear Matt thank her, but he could see the man smile, and he could see the barista’s face turn just a little pink.

God what he wouldn’t give for Matt to smile at him like that.

Matt returned to his work, reading with one hand and eating his soup with the other, and Pete tried to focus on his sandwich and not on how much he wanted to go sit in the older man’s lap. Which, he felt the need to point out, was a pretty big deal for him. Unlike most other twinks he knew, Pete 100% did not have a daddy kink. He didn’t. It was weird. He was not a kid and he didn’t need some older man sweeping in to take care of him. Plus, appearances aside, he was always going to be stronger than anyone he was with, so really it came down to exactly how weak he wanted to pretend to be. 

It just didn’t work. Not for him, anyway. He wasn’t there to kink shame, and other people could get off however they wanted, but the whole Daddy business just wasn’t his thing.

Except something about Matt’s hands made him want to reconsider all of that, just a little.

Pete shook his head and shoved the last of his sandwich into his mouth. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. Matt was absolutely not interested in him in any way, and that was that. 

Pete gathered up his dirty dishes, brushed the crumbs off his table, shouldered his backpack, and headed out the door. Maybe, if he was really, really lucky, some evil scientist or space monster or self aware robot would attack the school today. It would give him something to do and maybe even help him feel a little less like a loser. 

Unfortunately… or, fortunately if he was being reasonable… neither Empire State University nor the city of New York were attacked by an evil scientist or anybody else that day, and Pete was forced to sit through his second class. 

And if he missed his Spectroscopy Professor asking him a rather basic question about Gamma radiation, well it absolutely wasn’t because he was thinking about what a strong stubbled jaw would feel like between his thighs.

***

“Can I ask you a question?” Matt asked.

They were sitting on Matt’s roof, empty Thai food boxes strewn about them. Matt had brought up a blanket and a case of beer, and they’d laid the blanket out on the ground to make a picnic. All the food was gone, and Wade had leaned back propping himself up on his elbows. It was still early, and Matt knew the New York skyline was too bright for any stars to be visible, but Wade stared up like he saw them all the same. He seemed comfortable, so Matt followed suit - leaning back and resting his head on Wade’s abs. 

He had introduced himself as Wade Wilson almost immediately, pulling off his hood after asking Matt if it was ok. He hadn’t pushed or pressured when Matt had declined to return the favor, but had seem surprised that Matt hadn’t reacted to his appearance. 

“Shoot,” Wade replied. 

“What do you see?”

“What?”

“When you look up,” Matt clarified. “What do you see?”

“All sorts of stuff.” Wade ran his hand along Matt’s jawline. “Clouds and birds. Sometimes I can convince myself I see a satellite. I don’t know if it’s real, but it’s fun to think I see it all the same. What do you see?”

Matt forced a smile. “I was raised Catholic. Did you know that?”

“Yeah? I was raised Canadian. It’s similar, I think.”

Matt’s smile was genuine then, even if it quickly faded. “When I was young, real young, my grandma told me that, if I looked up hard enough, I could see heaven. When I told her I tried and tried but I still couldn’t see it, she told me that was because I had a piece of the devil in me.”

Wade sat up at a little at that, and Matt pushed up onto his old elbows to keep from sliding down into Wade’s lap. “That’s terrible. Who would say that to a kid? Is that why you wear the horns? Your origin story is kinda fucked.”

Matt shrugged. 

“What do you see when you look up?” Wade asked. 

“Absolutely nothing.”

Wade lay back down and Matt followed suit. His thumb resumed its gentle path, back and forth along Matt’s jaw. “That’s pretty fucking bleak, dude.”

“You get used to it. Can I ask you another question?”

“Only if we’re playing Truth or Dare. Do you want to play Truth or Dare with me, Devil Boy?”

“I’m pretty sure you’re only going to pick dare, but ok. Truth or dare?”

“Truth. But only the once and only because you’re so cute and I’m trying to get into your tight vinyl pants.” 

Matt considered that for a moment, then shrugged. He wanted to ask Wade who had done this to him, but he couldn’t think of a way to phrase it that didn’t give away how much he knew. He could hear Wade’s cells getting eaten by cancer and regenerating, over and over again. He took one of Wade’s pitted hands in his own and stroked it gently. “How did these happen?”

“Evil Scientists,” Wade answered, confirming what Matt already suspected. 

“Does it hurt?”

“Yup.” 

Matt pulled his hand away.

“Oh, no, El Diablo,” Wade said, taking Matt’s hand and putting it back on his own. “You don’t hurt. Everything else hurts, but you feel just fine. Anyway, it’s ok; pain is just a part of life.”

“That’s pretty bleak,” Matt echoed.

“You get used to it. Truth or dare.”

“Truth. But you can’t ask my identity.”

“I wouldn’t.” Wade took a swig from his beer. “You got any powers under those slutty pajamas? Or are you just an idiot in bondage-wear?”

Matt couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Both?” he answered once he’d regained his composure. “I mean, I’m not normal exactly…”

“Who is?” Wade held out his beer and Matt clinked his own knowingly against it.

“...but I don’t have super strength or healing or anything like that. Where it counts, I’m just a normal guy.”

“That’s all you’re going to tell me?”

“That’s it for now. Truth or Dare.”

“Dare.”

“Kiss me.”

“Shit, I thought you’d never ask.” Wade sat up, pushing Matt to sit as well, then leaned forward and pressed their lips together gently. The angle was awkward, and Wade’s forehead bumped against Matt’s mask. Matt started to pull away but Wade wrapped a strong arm around Matt’s waist and pulled him forward until he was fully seated in Wade’s lap. 

“I’m too big,” Matt complained as Wade pressed a line of kisses along his jaw.

“You feel just right to me, baby.” 

Wade’s skin was pocked and scarred, but it wasn’t rough, and his lips tasted like Thai food and cinnamon and strong beer. He was a good kisser, and when Matt felt his tongue run across the seam of his lips, he parted his mouth to allow Wade entrance. Wade licked gently into his mouth, and Matt melted into the sensation. They stayed like that for a long time, neither rushing or deepening the kiss, each learning the curve of the other’s mouth, hands carefully exploring backs and arms but not yet straying from the areas that were easy to reach. It wasn’t until Matt shifted in Wade’s lap, eliciting a groan from both men, that Matt unwrapped his legs from Wade’s waist and moved back to sitting on the ground.

“Truth or dare,” Wade mumbled, fingers running along whatever skin they could find on Matt’s face. 

“Truth.” 

“You seeing anybody?”

“Nope.” 

“Not even the other you? The you that you are when you take that mask off? Nobody special out there catching your eye?”

Matt hesitated just slightly. “Nobody.”

“That ‘nobody’ sure sounded like a ‘somebody’ to me.”

Matt shook his head. “Maybe somebody caught my attention, but I didn’t catch his. Can we move on?”

“Yeah. Sure. Truth or dare.”

“Isn’t it my turn?”

Wade nipped at Matt’s ear. “I’m skipping. What are you going to do about it?”

“Truth.”

“Were the tacos our first date?”

“I suppose,” Matt answered. “Why?”

“‘Cause you seem like the kind of guy who doesn’t put out until the third date, and I wanted to see how much longer I’d have to wait. You gonna keep the mask on during?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna keep the mask on during. That ok with you?”

“Better than ok. I love it.”

“I thought you might.”

  
  


***

Pete was still actively not thinking about that darkly stubbled jaw that evening, perched on the top of Avengers Tower, when Bucky’s voice piped into his ear. 

“Hey Kid, you there?” 

Pete gritted his teeth and forced himself to smile. “Yeah, I’m here. What’s up?”

“Just checking in. I felt bad about bailing on you.”

Pete shook his head and sighed loudly enough that Bucky certainly heard it on the other end. “Yeah, I’m fine. I haven’t even left the tower yet.”

“Ok, cool. Well… let me know if that changes, ok? Barnes out.”

It was totally annoying. 

He’d been getting ready to go out for the evening as normal when Bucky had snuck up on him and asked if they could go patrolling together that night. Which would have been great on any other night; Pete always loved company and Bucky almost never wanted to hang out with him - something about him having “too much energy” and “talking too much.” And that was exactly how Pete knew that this wasn’t Bucky’s idea. Bucky had only asked because Matt had put him up to it. 

Matt, who thought Pete was a kid and couldn’t take care of himself. 

Fuck that dude.

Or, you know, the other way around if that was what Matt was into. Pete was cool either way.

It hadn’t mattered anyway. Bucky had gotten a call from Natasha and the two of them took off with Tony and Steve to go god knows where on a Quinjent.

When Pete had asked where they were going, Tony had answered: “Don’t worry, Underoos. The grown-ups are handling it.”

_ Fuck all of them. _

Pete felt that familiar tingle down his spine and was off, swinging in the direction his instincts told him. He really didn’t want to fight. All he wanted was to be out in the night air, high above the city. When he was up here he felt free, like nothing mattered and nothing could touch him. 

But he went where his Spider-Senses sent him. This time, it was a bodega in Murray Hill where four men were holding the cashier at gunpoint. It wasn’t hard. He had the men webbed up and the police called in less than 10 minutes, and was just heading on his way when…

“Hiya!” 

The man standing in front of Pete was dressed in red and black, with guns strapped to his legs and swords strapped to his back. Pete wasn’t a big fan of the guns, but the swords looked pretty cool. “Um… hi?” he replied.

“I was just walking home from a friend’s house and saw you fighting and I thought I would stop by and say that I think you’re doing a really good job.”

“Thanks?” Pete started walking away.

“You’re Spider-Man,” the man said, catching up and walking close, pressed against Pete’s side.

“And you’re Deadpool.”

Wade took a few steps ahead of Pete and then turned to face him, stopping both of them dead in their tracks. “YOU KNOW ME?!?!?”

Yeah, Pete knew him. He’d seen the man around enough times; Deadpool certainly wasn’t trying to be subtle. When he’d asked Clint about him, Clint had told Pete to stay away and that had been enough for him.

He wasn’t much interested in following those kinds of directions anymore. 

“I know you.” Pete started to walk again, leaving Deadpool standing behind him. He turned to face him, still walking away. “You coming or what?”

Deadpool clapped his hands and gave a tiny little jump, which Pete had to admit was absolutely adorable, and chased after him. He was a good head taller than Pete but, as he snuggled up against him again, he took Pete’s arm and draped it up and over his shoulders. “Where are we going, Arachnophobia?”

“I don’t know,” Pete replied. “The city seems dead tonight. Which is good,” he added quickly. “I didn’t much feel like fighting anyway. What about you? What are you up to tonight?”

Deadpool raised his shoulders and arms in an overdramatic shrug. “Got no plans, Aragog. Why don’t you show me the city, spider-style?”

Pete stared at him for a minute, considering. “Sure, why not?” he finally said, turning his back to Deadpool. “Jump on!” 

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Climb on my back.”

Deadpool laughed nervously. “Yeah, I mean, I  _ really  _ want to, but I’m heavier than I look.”

“And I’m stronger than I look,” Pete replied seriously. “Now get up. I need both my hands for where we’re going, so I can’t think of any other way this works.” He refused to turn to look, but Pete could practically feel Deadpool staring holes into the back of his head, trying to assess if he was serious or not. 

“Ok,” Deadpool replied after a long pause. “You sure this is allowed? I don’t want to get you in trouble with the rest of the supes. They don’t like me all that much. Rumor on the street is that you’re their golden child.”

“M’not a child,” Pete gritted out from between his teeth.

“Never said you were. It’s just an expression.” Pete felt Deadpool’s hands on his shoulders, lightly at first, and then firmer as he used them for leverage and stability as he jumped, hoisting himself up and wrapping his legs around Pete’s waist. “Giddyup!” 

Under his mask Pete grinned as he broke into a run. “Hold on tight!” he shouted, and Wade squealed as Pete reached out a hand, shot out a rope of webbing, and swung them up into the sky. 

The Chrysler Building wasn’t far, and in less than five minutes Pete was setting Wade down on one of the Gargoyle outcroppings - his favorite place to look out over the city.

“Holy Hulkpubes!” Deadpool exclaimed. “That was invigorating! How do you go back to taking a cab after something like that?!?”

Pete laughed. “I guess I don’t take a lot of cabs.”

“I suppose you don’t.” There was awe in Deadpool's voice. Pete wasn’t quite sure if the man was serious or making fun of him. “You probably have a car, a motorcycle, a helicopter… some sort of comically unnecessary and thematically inappropriate dune buggy that we’re all supposed to just forget about…”

Fortunately, Pete didn’t need to come up with a reply to that, as Deadpool continued. “Hey, do you mind if I take this off?” He tugged on his hood. “It’s hot as fuck under here.”

“I… I mean, if you’re ok with it I am,” Pete answered cautiously.

“Yeah, I mostly wear it for other people. I don’t care.” 

Wade pulled the hood off his head and Pete let out a small gasp of surprise.

“It’s bad. I know. I’m sorry; I’ll put it back on.”

“No,” Pete put out a hand to stop him, laying it on Deadpool’s arm. “I didn’t mean… you just surprised me. Can I…” he reached out a hand and traced it over Deadpool’s cheek. His face was smoother than Pete had expected - like the fresh skin revealed after a sunburn peels away. “What happened?” 

“Crazy science experiments,” Wade replied with a small shrug. “But on the other hand I can’t die and I don’t age, so that’s cool in a weird, always having an existential crisis kind of way. What happened to you? Why are you a spider? Do you have compound eyes and shit like that?”

Pete was still for a moment, considering. Then he pulled off his own mask. “Regular eyes. Got bit by a radioactive spider,” he said, pulling his hand through his hair. “It just made me strong and sticky. I built the webs myself. I’m Pete, by the way. Peter Parker.”

“Wade Wilson,” Wade said, holding out his hand. “And radioactive spider sounds fake, just so you know.”

Pete shook his hand. “That’s pretty rich coming from a science fair project.”

Wade snorted, then his eyes raked over Pete. “You’re pretty young, Pete,” he said quietly. 

Pete stiffened. “Not that young.”

“No,” Wade agreed. “Not that young.”

Pete leaned back onto the building and held out his arms, and Wade settled back into them. Together, they sat silently and watched as the first hint of sunlight peeked out over the skyline.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting. I have been just unbelievably tired recently! Stop by in the comments and let me know what you think. It would mean so very much to me!!


	5. Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter challenged me, and I'm still not happy with it. More on that in the end comments, but I wanted to give a disclaimer...
> 
> Also, special thanks to HaniTrash for getting it at least this far. I LOVE YOU!!!!

This was absolutely, 100%, without a doubt, the weirdest week Matt Murdock had lived through in a long time, and he was regularly attacked by undead ninjas, so that was saying a lot. 

Tuesday he’d pulled Clint out of a dumpster which… ok, yeah, that was pretty normal. And then Wednesday Peter Parker had arrived at his office looking like the worlds best jailbait and Deadpool had fed him stolen tacos as an attempt to segue from trying to kill him to trying to fuck him… A segue which was definitely working, if Matt was being totally honest with himself. Yesterday he’d been aggressively rejected by Peter at lunch, only to end dinner making out like a teenager with Wade. It was all giving him a bit of emotional whiplash.

Yesterday had started out well. He’d been asked to give a guest lecture on his part in overturning the Sokovia Accords by one of his former law professors who had transferred to Empire State University. The whole class was smart and had asked great questions, even keeping Matt afterwards and making him promise to come back and meet with them again later in the semester. There were several students who had asked him about internships, and who had been interested even after he’d told them that there was absolutely no way his small firm could afford to pay anything. Foggy was totally going to freak out about that. By the time he’d gotten out of there, he was STARVING, so he’d decided to stop at a small on campus coffee shop that smelled like it had an amazing chicken noodle soup. It wasn’t until he was through the door that he had realized the chicken soup might not have been all he was smelling.

Matt knew in the moment that he should leave, but he didn’t. Instead he’d sat right in Pete’s line of sight, focusing on looking like he was doing work, hoping that Pete would notice him - would say something. Pete did notice him, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he’d eaten as fast as he could and bolted out the door. 

Pete didn’t want to talk to him. 

Which was fine. It all was totally Pete’s choice and Matt wasn’t going to press the issue. It wasn’t like he’d never been rejected before. It didn’t happen very often, but it happened… And it wasn’t really a rejection anyway. Pete shouldn’t be interested in him, and he shouldn’t be interested in Pete. He was too old for Pete.

Although, if Pete had been there, in the middle of the day, having lunch on ESU campus, maybe he wasn’t quite as young as Matt thought he was…

It didn’t matter. 

Once back at home, Matt had done everything he could to push the memory of Pete’s smell and the thought of how it might linger on his silk sheets out of his mind and, by the time he heard Deadpool on the roof and smelled the Thai food the man was carrying… well, if the spring wasn’t back in his step, he could at least fake it.

Dinner went much better than lunch. The food was great and the conversation was easy. Wade was an odd man with a dark and filthy sense of humor, but there was something about his blunt honesty and lazy self deprecation that spoke to Matt’s soul. This was a casual thing - two adults just spending time together with no strings attached. Matt was used to that, and it was comforting. After Wade had left, Matt had headed out into the Kitchen and found a few fights - just enough to bloody his knuckles and burn off some tension.

The point was, Matt was happy. Or, at least, he was happy by Matt Murdock Standards. 

That was yesterday. Today was a different story. 

In Matt’s defense, the fight had sounded a lot worse from his apartment. Or, at least, that was what he kept telling himself. By the time he got there Fisk’s goons had Spider-Man surrounded, but Pete was handling them pretty well. He’d already gotten all of their guns away and webbed to a nearby building, and now he was taking the men out one by one. He seemed calm, like he had the situation under control, so Matt allowed himself to sit back and observe the fight.

Watching Spider-Man fight was definitely not the reason he had put his suit on earlier than normal and practically flown out of his skylight, but as long as he was there it would be rude not to stay. Maybe the fight would shift and Pete would need him.

Jesus the kid moved like a dream. All of the strength and grace that Matt had sensed in his office were on full display here, as Spider-Man sprung up, stuck to the side of a building, then dropped back down taking two men out with him. Wow. Just… fucking wow. 

And Peter had been absolutely right; he did not need Matt to protect him. He was going up against fifteen of Fisk’s men and hardly even breaking a sweat. That was until…

Matt noticed Pete’s reaction before he realized what the reaction was to. A literal chill went down Pete’s spine and the hairs on his arms stood up on end. Matt felt Pete tense at the same time he heard it - the gun cocking on the roof above them. 

His body moved on instinct, throwing his baton before he even had time to think. The cable streamed out behind it, wrapping itself around the feet of the man on the roof. Matt pulled, and the man came tumbling, falling forward and down. Matt cursed under his breath and pressed the button to retract the wire, bracing himself to catch the weight of the man, hopefully before he hit the ground. 

Matt heard a soft splat and smelled nylon and carbon and other chemicals he couldn’t quite place. The wire connected to the baton he was still holding went slack. 

“Hey up there!” Spider-Man called out from below, voice casual despite the fact that he was still actively fighting eight men, most of whom were twice his size. And they were talking now. What perfect timing… Matt wondered what had changed. “You throwing people off roofs now?”

“Hey yourself.” Matt leaned over the railing of the fire escape he was standing on. The man he’d knocked off the roof was webbed to the wall a few feet below him. “And not on purpose. Thanks for the catch!”

“Thank you for the assist. You gonna come down and help me out down here or…” Spider-Man gestured at the goons still attacking him from all sides. One came at him with a knife and he webbed the man’s hands to his body, rolling him up like a crepe.

“Looks like you’ve got it under control,” Matt replied with a smirk. 

“Sure but,” Spider-Man paused, knocking the feet out from under two would-be attackers and webbing them to the ground, “if you helped me we would get done sooner, and then we could maybe go get a bite to eat or something.” He took out another man with a kick to the chest.

“You buying?”

Spider-Man webbed two men to the side of a building and then elbowed last of Fisks men in the nose. The man fell to the ground screaming and clutching his face. “I mean, I totally would, but I don’t have any pockets in this thing.” He ran his hands down the sides of his costume, over his hips and down his thighs. He had to know what he looked like, didn’t he?

“Convenient.” Matt jumped down from his fire escape perch and walked to where Spider-Man was standing. He heard Spider-Man’s heartbeat pick up as he stepped out of the shadows. Pete smelled different. Maybe something in the suit? Matt couldn’t be sure. The suit was loud, assaulting Matt’s senses. It seemed to have an electrical current running through it, and it almost felt alive.  _ The suit was,  _ Matt thought, in his own defense at being caught unaware in his office,  _ extremely distracting.  _

Even more distracting at this particular moment, however, was the fact that Spider-Man was reacting to Daredevil like Daredevil was a fucking snack - pupils dialating and pores expanding. Peter’s heart was racing and Matt could practically taste the adrenaline in his blood. It was intoxicating. 

Matt took a step forward, grinning. “What were you thinking? I’m sure you worked up an appetite with all this.” He gestured at Fisk’s men lying on the ground.

“I’m just a simple New Yorker at heart,” Spider-Man replied, and fuck if that tone of voice didn’t do things to Matt. “I don’t need much. Just a good slice of pizza is all it takes to make me happy.” 

Matt was about to make his move when realization of what he was doing hit him.  _ Shit,  _ he thought.  _ This is wrong. Peter Parker rejected Matt Murdock. You cannot take advantage of what Spider-Man doesn’t know about Daredevil. Plus,  _ Matt reminded himself,  _ you have a date tonight. _

“I should go,” Matt said after a moment’s pause.

“Why? What about the pizza?” Matt could hear the hurt in Peter’s voice.

“I just… I should go. You ok to call this in? Are you hurt? Do you need anything?”

Peter shook his head wordlessly, obviously confused by the quick turn the conversation was taking. 

Matt turned and started to walk quickly away.

“I’m a big fan!” Peter called out after him. “I…” He trailed off. 

Matt turned the corner into an alley.

“I’d like to get to know you better…” Peter mumbled under his breath.

Matt heard him clearly. 

***

Wade wanted to ignore the obvious sounds of a fight coming from down the alley. He really did.

_ What do you mean, “wanted to”? You can fuck right out of here with that shit. I’m going to ignore the sounds is what I’m going to do. I’ve got a hot date tonight. _

_ [Wade…] _

_ What, fucker?  _

_ [Maybe you should listen to them.] _

_ Oh, so you’re suddenly on the narrator’s side? Hell no. I’m gonna get my ass home and then I’m gonna get some. _

_ [Wade, just listen.] _

_ Ugh. Fine. Go ahead. It’ll be faster than arguing with this asshat.  _

Wade wanted to ignore the obvious sounds of a fight coming from down the alley. He really did. But then he thought about his new boyfriend and how disappointed he might be if he found out Wade left some little old lady to get the beat-down when he could have stopped it. He didn’t want that. Sometimes people who were disappointed in you didn’t want to have the sexy times.

_ You raise a good point. _

_ [I told you they might.] _

_ But how did you know what they were going to say? Are you an extension of the narrator? I thought you were an extension of me. _

_ [You, me, the narrator… we’re all just an extension of some chick writing fanfic in her kitchen while making dinner.] _

_ Oh shit. That’s too meta for me. Let’s just stop the fight and then go get laid, yeah? _

_ [Sounds like a plan!] _

Wade unsheathed the katanas from his back and moved down the alley. He heard a crash, followed by a familiar voice.

“Wow. You’ve got really good aim, you know that? Do you practice a lot?”

_ That’s the spider-kid’s voice. Does that mean we can leave? _

_ [Why would that mean we could leave?] _

_ Because the spider-kid can take care of himself. _

_ [Maybe…] _

There was another crash.

“I have a friend with really good aim, and he’s practicing all the time.” Crash. “But I’m never sure if it’s because he needs to or he wants to. Maybe you two should hang out sometime. I mean, probably not because he’s an Avenger and you’re clearly - “

The spider-kid’s voice cut off with a grunt. 

“Shit! That really hurts, you know? Listen…” The spider-kid sounded scared.

Wade turned a corner and saw them. The spider-kid had his back to the wall. He had cuts in his suit by his hands and side and face. Wade could see that he was bleeding. 

In front of him stood a woman in a skin tight suit. She was covered in shiny black vinyl from the tips of her right fingers to her left toes. The rest of her suit, her left arm and right leg, was white fabric with concentric black circles. Her hair was in a tight bun on the top of her head, held in place with chopsticks. 

“Hiya Maki!” Wade called out cheerfully. 

She spun to face him. She was wearing a black mask and had a black target on her forehead. 

_ Why the fuck is she dressed like this? _

_ [Maki Matsumoto is also Lady Bullseye.] _

_ Lady Bullseye? That’s pretty obscure.  _

_ [Yeah. Seems like this writer reads a lot of comics.] _

_ Wait. You said a girl was writing. GIRLS READ COMICS?!?!? _

_ [Yeah, Wade. It’s the 90’s. Girls can do whatever they want.] _

_ It’s literally 2020.  _

_ [Don’t you have a fight or something?] _

“Deadpool.” Lady Bullseye was moving towards him. “How dare you address me now, after stealing our money and not following through on the terms of our agreement.”

“Listen, Circles…”

_ [That’s a terrible nickname.] _

_ Come up with something better or keep your mouth shut! _ _   
_

“You violated the contract before I even got a chance to. Stringing me along; making me think I was working for you. I pick who I work for, and I don’t work for Fisk for any amount of money!”

Wade moved himself next to Spider-Kid. “Ok, now web her,” he whispered noisily. 

The spider-kid stared at him, eyes of his suit narrowing.

_ [Ohh… that’s a fun trick.]  _

“She broke my web shooters,” Spider-Kid replied, as if Wade were the biggest idiot he’d ever met.

_ [Probably accurate.] _

_ Whose fucking side are you on?!?! _

_ [Clearly not yours.] _

_ Shut up. I’m losing track of the dialog here. Narrator, can you take it back one line for me? _

“She broke my web shooters,” Spider-Kid replied, as if Wade were the biggest idiot he’d ever met.

“Oh… Well that’s not good.” Wade stepped in front of the spider-kid as Lady Bullseye threw a knife. It embedded in his shoulder with a thud.

“Wait, was that your entire plan? Don’t you think I would have webbed her up by now if I could?!?!” 

“Fuck, I don’t know.” Wade sheathed a katana and pulled out a gun. Lady Bullseye immediately knocked it out of his hand with another thrown knife. “Fuck!”

Behind him, Pete coughed. It sounded wet. 

_ [Fuck. This is bad.] _

_ Agreed. What do we do? _

_ [Kill her?] _

Wade nodded. Another knife hit him, this time directly between the eyes. He stared up at it, going cross eyed in the process. “Well that wasn’t very nice. Listen,” he took a step forward, still staying carefully in between Lady Bullseye and Pete, “I don’t know how well you know your namesake…”

“He saved my life; that is all.” Maki answered briskly. 

“Well, that is unfortunate.” Wade kept walking towards her, “Because the real Bullseye and I are friends. Buddies. Pals. Amigos.” Maki threw another knife that sunk into his neck. Wade spit blood. “Fuck, would you stop it! I’m trying to talk to you here!” 

Maki threw two more knives, both embedding themselves in Wade’s chest. She ran her hands down her sides, then stared at him wide eyed.

“All out?” Wade grinned. “My turn, bitch!” Wade pulled out a handgun and aimed it at her. 

Maki crouched into a defensive posture, a smile spreading across her face. “You should know that I have been trained to be an assassin since I was a child. I trained with Master Izu himself, and the Hand is at my beck and…”

Her words cut off abruptly and she stumbled backwards, hand clasping over the bullet wound in her chest.

“Yeah,” Wade said, blowing on the tip of his gun dramatically, “I don’t give a fuck about any of that.”

_ [Holy shit that was abrupt.] _

_ Well she was monologuing. _

_ [But… but what if we need her later? For plot reasons?] _

_ Eh. She’s the Hand. She’ll be fine. _

Wade turned his back on Maki’s body and hurried to Pete. He had slumped down to the ground, barely conscious, bleeding from his side and his head. A small trickle of blood ran down from the corner of his mouth. “And that,” Wade said in his best mentor voice, “is why you should always bring a gun to a knife fight.” Pete blinked up at him, eyes going glassy. “Shit. Can’t you call Captain America or something? Don’t you got a fancy com in that suit?”

“Sh’broke it,” Pete slurred out.

“Alright. Alright, fuck.” Wade scooped Pete up into his arms and turned towards Hell's Kitchen. “I know a place, I hope. Hold on.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... yeah. Trying to tie three storylines together was rough for me. But we've done it and in the next chapter they all get to finally be in the same space together! Hooray!! Sorry if you're not feeling this chapter as I am not; I wrote a few chapters ahead as I worked on making this as good as I could, and I promise it is all uphill from here!! Exclamation points!!!


	6. Six

_ You fucking know better, Matt,  _ he cursed himself as he slipped in silently though his skylight.  _ You always do this to yourself. Always.  _ He pulled off his mask and walked down the stairs into the living area of his apartment.  _ You find something decent and your very first move is to try and sabotage it.  _

And that’s what he’d been doing, right? Spider-Man didn’t need Daredevil jumping in to save him. If anything, it was more likely to be the other way around. And Pete had backup, too. Matt hadn’t sensed him, but he knew Bucky must have been close by. The man had promised...

He ran a hand through his hair and grabbed a beer out of the fridge.  _ It’s not that Wade’s perfect,  _ he thought.  _ Nobody in their right mind would think that Wade was perfect. But he was decent. _

Matt knew who Wade was, knew Deadpool, knew what he did. He was a mercenary, an assassin for hire, a killer. Matt would be lying if he said he approved of the lifestyle, but it wasn’t like he expected everyone to conform to his personal code. He knew that Clint, Bucky, Steve and Nat all killed when they had to, and he was fine with that. He didn’t like it, but he accepted it. He’d even been able to come to an uncomfortable agreement with Frank - the two staying out of each other’s business as much as possible. And the rumor on the street was that Deadpool had some sort of code, that he didn’t take just any job. 

_ He’d refused to kill Daredevil, hadn’t he? _

Maybe that was just because Wade disliked Wilson Fisk and didn’t want to work for him or his wife. Or, maybe it was because he wanted to get into Matt’s pants, which was what Wade insisted. But he got the feeling it was more than that - that Wade was, when you got past the walls that he’d built up to protect himself from a lifetime of pain and torture, a good person.

And yeah, it was hard for Matt to read him. His health and mutations meant that his physical reactions weren’t the same as what a typical person’s would be. But the more Matt was around him, the more Matt was starting to understand him, how he reacted, what he sounded like when he was stressed or happy or hiding. 

_ He deserves better than someone who goes chasing out of the house after someone else an hour before a date. _

Matt shucked off his Daredevil costume and threw on sweatpants and a T-shirt, then headed down the stairs and out the door of his apartment. It was a warm night, the air finally feeling less like late spring and more like early summer, and Matt was happy to be out in it without the mask. It wasn’t often that he got to walk through his neighborhood at night as just  _ Matt Murdock _ ; instead, most nights he spent perched on a rooftop, straining his ears in all directions to catch any possible threats. He loved being Daredevil. He wouldn’t trade it for the world. But it was exhausting.

Now his cane tapped on the sidewalk as he walked down the street and he let his senses relax, focusing only on the area immediately surrounding him. 

As Matt headed back home - his free arm wrapped around a paper grocery bag filled with a deluxe antipasto platter ordered from his favorite Italian restaurant, plus four different kinds of dessert, plus oysters, because if he was going to do this he was at least going to do it right - he listened to the wind blowing through the trees. He focused on the sensation of the warm brush across the hair on his arms. It was pleasant. Relaxing. 

He climbed the stairs to his apartment, put the food in his fridge, and checked the time. It was 9:15. He was meeting Wade at Wade’s apartment tonight at 10, a decision they’d made the night before after Matt had confessed he wasn’t ready to tell Wade exactly where he lived. He’d braced himself for the fallout from that, but it had never come. Wade respected his need for privacy - his need to separate who he was during the day and who he was at night - in ways that very few other people in his life ever had. 

_ Not since Natasha…  _ Matt found himself thinking, before quickly pushing that thought out of his head. __

_ Do I trust Wade?  _ he wondered. As far as he could tell, the man had never lied to him - he’d been honest to a fault, even. Was that a concern? If asked straight out, would he tell the truth when Matt needed him to lie?

_ What about Pete? Do I trust him?  _ Matt pushed that thought out of his head as well. It didn’t matter, and now was not the time.

Matt changed back out of his civilian clothes and into his costume. He thought about Wade, created a portrait of him in his head, as he paced his apartment. The way he sounded, felt, smelled, tasted… Matt wondered what Wade’s apartment was going to be like. Sometimes new places were hard to navigate, especially homes. There was too much clutter, so much softness, too many smells. If he tripped up, stumbled, acted  _ blind _ , Wade would see. He would know. Matt would have been happier if they could have stayed up on his roof, in his territory, where he knew his surroundings without having to think about it. Then again, the last thing he needed was somebody finding them up on the roof…

Matt wasn’t sure if it was thinking about the roof that made him hear it, or just coincidental timing, but the sound was unmistakable - Wade’s footfalls above him. Which was wrong. Wade wasn’t supposed to be there. Not tonight.

Wade’s footsteps were too heavy, unbalanced even. Matt listened, felt… Wade was carrying someone, but there was only one heartbeat.  _ No,  _ Matt focused,  _ the second one is there. It’s just faint. So faint… Oh my God… _

Realization washed over Matt as he sprinted up the stairs and out his skylight. “Here!” he called out, running up to Wade who was looking in the wrong direction, towards the hallway window where Matt had emerged the previous two nights. “I’m here. Jesus, what happened to him? And you?” Matt noticed the knives still sticking out of Wade’s shoulder, felt the metal, smelled the blood of both of them mingling together.

Wade just stared at Matt, unanswering.

“We need to get him inside. My phone… I didn’t grab my phone. There’s someone we can call.” He led Wade to the skylight and held it open as Wade carefully carried Pete in and down the steep staircase. Matt wanted to take Pete, to carry him himself, to hold him, but he knew Wade was stronger and he didn’t want to jostle Pete any more than necessary. 

“In here,” Matt said, grabbing his phone off the coffee table and directing Wade into his bedroom. He activated his phone. “Call Claire.” 

Matt watched in horror as Wade laid Pete out on his bed. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Everything about it was wrong. Pete’s small frame seemed impossibly smaller, crumpled in on itself. His breath was faint, short, shallow, and wet. Bruises bloomed under his skin and blood seeped out through gashes on his sides and head and wrists. Matt wanted Pete in his home, on his bed. He wanted… now wasn’t the time to think about what he wanted… but he didn’t want this. Anything but this.

“Matt?” Claire’s voice brought him back to reality. 

“It’s Spider-Man,” he said quickly. “We’re at my apartment. It’s bad. Hurry.” 

“I’m on my way.”

Matt ended the call and then stood, silently, listening to Pete’s weak heartbeat flutter.

“What happened?” Matt asked Wade, not turning towards him, senses focused entirely on Pete.

Wade, on the other hand, was staring hard at Matt the entire time he spoke. His voice was clear and calm, with a hint of a question in it; nothing like his normal manic cadance. “He was attacked. Maki Matsumoto - the woman who was working for Fisk, who hired me to kill you - she attacked him. She’s calling herself Lady Bullseye.”

Matt stiffened.

“She said it was just a name,” Wade continued. “She didn’t seem to have anything to do with the other guy, except maybe an unnervingly accurate aim. I just happened to be walking by, heard them in an alley. He was already pretty bad by the time I got there. I don’t know much else.”

“What about her?” Matt asked. “What happened to Lady Bullseye?”

“I killed her. Shot her point blank.”

Matt didn’t respond. 

“Should I go?” Wade asked, breaking the silence after several minutes. 

Matt still didn’t turn. “Why would you go?”

“Buncha reasons. Your friend Claire… she work with a lot of hero-types?”

“Some, I guess.” 

“M’not always well received in those kinds of circles.”

That was enough to get Matt’s attention, and he turned to face Wade. “This is my home and you’re welcome here. You don’t need to leave for anyone else, not for that reason.”

Matt could feel Wade’s attention, unwavering. “Ok,” he replied after another pause. “What about you. I’m guessing it doesn’t matter ‘cause of what she called you but… should you put on your mask?”

Matt’s fingers flew to his face. He hadn’t realized he wasn’t wearing it. “No,” he said shakily. “She knows.” 

He could hear Wade swallow hard. “Ok third question, and another reason why maybe I should leave cause, you know, I don’t want to be interrupting anything.” Wade jerked his head at Pete’s prone body. “Is he the somebody who caught your attention?”

Matt winced, was saved from having to answer by the sound of Claire in the hallway. He moved to open the door and ushered her into his bedroom. 

She gasped at the sight of Wade. “Your shoulder!!”

“Oh, no,” Wade said quickly, pulling the remaining knives out with a flourish and giving Claire a double thumbs up. “This is nothing. I’m fine. Worry about Charlotte’s Web over there.”

Matt knew Claire, he knew her really well, and he felt it as she transitioned from horror to confusion to resolve to concern, all in a matter of seconds, as her attention shifted from Wade to Pete. She leaned over him. “I’m going to need to take this off,” she told Matt, gesturing at Pete’s torn suit.

“Not the mask,” Matt answered forcefully.

“Yes the mask.” She was already using scissors to cut away the rest of his suit, and Matt sure hoped Tony Stark didn’t hold him responsible for that. Matt was sure that thing was worth more than he could ever hope to earn. “He’s bleeding from his head. I need to be able to see what I’m working with. I need to check his pupils to be sure he’s not concussed. Unless…” She trailed off, looking back at Deadpool. “How freely can I speak?”

“It’s fine.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You sure about that?”

Wade grunted. “I can leave.” 

“No! Claire, it’s fine.”

“Ok. I need to check his pupils, unless he’s like you.”

“He’s not.” 

“Then I need to take off the mask.”

Matt growled and ran his fingers through his hair, fisting it and pulling slightly, feeling the burn in his scalp, letting it ground him. “Fine. But Claire, you can’t…”

“I know!” she snapped at him. “You think I don’t know that, Matt?”

He didn’t answer and Claire returned to her work. “Go sit in the living room,” she said to them, back turned. “You can tell just as well what’s going on from out there, and he’s making me nervous.”

Matt didn’t want to go, but knew better than to argue with Claire, so he gestured for Wade to walk out the door, and then followed behind him when he did. 

They sat down on opposite ends of Matt’s couch. 

“You know who he is under the mask?” Wade asked.

Matt nodded. “Do you?”

“Yeah.” Wade pulled off his mask. “She called you Matt twice. That your name?”

“Yeah. Matt Murdock.”

“Nice to meet you, Matt Murdock,” Wade picked up Matt’s hand and shook it. “Wish it could have been under better circumstances. Or, you know, at least after we fucked like you wanted it to be.”

Matt thought about that for a moment then shook his head, deciding it was better to just move on. “How did you know? About me… about what I… how I feel?”

“How you feel about Pete?”

Matt nodded.

“It’s all over your face - the way you look at him. I can practically smell it on you. It’s disgusting, really. And cute.” Wade shrugged. “I’m insanely jealous but whatever. It’s fine. I can’t blame you. His ass is almost as nice as yours.”

“Wade, he’s a child.”

“Of course he’s not.”

Matt could feel Wade staring at him.

“He told me he was twenty. You callin’ Spider-Man a liar?”

Matt blinked. “When did he tell you that?”

“Last night.”

“Wait…” Matt turned to face Wade on the couch. “When last night?”

“Oh no, my sweet king of fire and brimstone,” Wade cooed. “You can’t get mad at me for giving the spider a rooftop snuggle, while you were over here thinking tight-pants thoughts about someone you thought was a minor.” 

Matt didn’t respond.

“Hey, Matt?”

“Yeah, Wade?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Go ahead.”

“Are you blind?”

Matt smiled. “Yeah, I am.”

“How the fuck does that work?”

Matt laughed. He knew it was wrong - that Pete was currently bleeding on his bed and that he should be serious - but he could hear Claire working and her heartbeat was calm and steady. Pete’s breathing had stabilized. Things seemed like they were going to be ok.

“I can hear really well, smell, taste, touch. They’re all amplified. It ends up being a lot like radar, and I can use it to build a picture in my mind.”

“So when you said that you didn’t see anything when you looked up at the sky…”

“That was literal.”

“Huh.”

Wade was silent for a long time then. 

“It all makes sense now, I guess.”

“What does?” Matt asked.

“Why you wanted to spend time with me,” Wade answered nonchalantly. “You don’t know what I look like.”

“What?” Matt shifted himself so he was sitting next to Wade, pressing their legs together. “No. No, it’s not like that at all.” He ran a hand across Wade’s forehead and down the side of his face. He let his thumb drag across Wade’s lips and settle there. “I can’t see you, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know what you look like. I can feel… It’s inside, too. It’s eating you…”   
  
“Cancer,” Wade agreed solemnly. 

“But it won’t kill you?”

“Never. Not even if I wanted it to.”

Matt slowly traced his thumb down until he could cup Wade’s chin between his thumb and forefinger. Then he tilted Wade’s head up and kissed him gently.

Claire cleared her throat behind them. Matt and Wade jumped apart like high-schoolers who had been caught by their parents.

Claire shook her head. “Yeah, I don’t even want to know.” She turned to Matt. “He’s still unconscious. He’s in bad shape, but he’s going to be ok. Outside of that… honestly, I don’t feel especially comfortable discussing his medical situation with you.” 

Matt narrowed his eyes. “What the hell, Claire?”

“Are you his family? How well do you even know the guy? How well does he know you? Are you two friends, or did he just show up on your roof? I've never once heard you talk about Spider-Man, except in passing. I may not work in a hospital anymore, but I took an oath…”

“Ok, ok. Yeah, that makes sense.” Matt stood up, dragged a hand through his hair, and began pacing. “What do you want me to do, though. You said it yourself; he’s unconscious. He needs somebody who can take care of him… if you can’t tell me, then who…?”

“You have people you can call, Matt. His people.”

Matt sighed and retrieved his phone. He turned his blank eyes towards Claire one last time, batting his eyelashes at her pleadingly, hoping for a reprieve.

“That doesn’t work for shit on me, Murdock, and you know it.”

Wade laughed and tried to hold it back. It came out as a snort and Claire smiled at him. “He thinks he’s all that,” Wade said to her, “just because he’s so pretty. Thinks he can just turn those useless peepers on you and get away with whatever he wants.”

Matt grunted and activated voice calling. “Call Steve Rogers.” He felt Wade stiffen. 

The phone rang twice before it connected. “This is Captain Rogers,” the voice on the other end answered, all business.

“Steve, it’s Matt. I need you to come to my place immediately. It’s urgent.”

There was a brief pause and then, “Alright Matt, sure. We’re just getting back to the tower. We can be there in eight minutes.”

The call disconnected.

“That’s my cue to get the fuck out of here,” Wade said, rising and pulling his mask back on.

“Wade, wait, listen…” Matt grabbed his hand. 

“No, my beautiful, blind Lucifer. You listen. These guys, they don’t like me. Maybe if it was just the good ole’ Man with a Plan, he at least has class and a code, but he said ‘we.’ ‘ _ We _ can be there in eight minutes.’ That means he’s bringing somebody, and I’d bet my regenerating hide it’s his boy-toy or the Iron Millionaire and either one of them would rather shoot me than abide me being within a hundred-foot radius of their spider-baby. It’s better for all of us if I was never here.”

“You saved him, Wade,” Matt said, not letting go. “If it wasn’t for you, he’d be dead right now.”

“Then I did my good deed, and maybe my karma can be my not getting any more holes put in me today. Is that fair?”

“That’s not how karma works…” Clair called out from across the room.

Wade grinned at her over his shoulder. “I like you. You’re sassy.”

“Are you ok, before you go?” she asked him.

“Yup,” he rubbed at his shoulder. “All healed up. You shoulda seen the one in my skull. Straight between my eyes and stickin' into my frontal lobe. That woulda freaked you right the fuck out!” He turned to Matt. “You gotta promise you won’t tell them I was here.”

Matt could hear the roar of Captain America’s motorcycle four blocks away. “Alright then,” he said softly, not wanting to let go of Wade’s hand. “I promise. If you’re going to go, you’d better go now.” Wade walked slowly up the staircase and Matt followed, stopping him as soon as they were in his study and the doors had closed behind them. “Don’t go far.” 

He could feel Wade staring at him for a moment, then the man stepped forward, wrapping an arm around Matt’s waist and dropping his other hand to grab Matt’s ass. “I wouldn’t dream about it, Double D. I got plans for this,” and he squeezed tightly. 

Matt kissed him, groaning into his mouth. He pulled away sooner than he wanted, the sounds of Steve’s Harley now pulling up to his front door. “They’re here,” he whispered. “Don’t let them see you on the roof.” 

Wade nodded, winked, and was gone. 

Matt fixed his hair as he practically ran down the stairs, unlocking and opening the door before two super soldiers burst in. 

“What’s going on, Murdock?” Steve said as he walked through the door. He stopped when he saw Claire, his eyes going wide. “What happened? Who’s hurt? Is it Clint? Where is he…”

“It’s not Clint,” Claire stopped him.

“It’s Pete,” Matt spat, fists tightening instinctively at his sides, anger building inside of him. 

Because they were in their tactical gear. They were both in their tactical gear. Bucky was in his tactical gear - the gear he wore when he was going somewhere to fight. The gear he should have been wearing when he was out with Pete like he’d promised Matt he’d be. 

A promise he clearly hadn’t kept, if Pete’s condition was any indication.

Steve was already moving towards Matt’s bedroom.

“He’s going to be ok,” Claire said quietly. “He looks worse than he is. Does he have any family that I should be talking to?”

Steve visibly paled. “He’s got an aunt. Do we need to call…”

“Stevie, she said he was ok,” Bucky interrupted. He turned to Claire. “Right? That’s what you said. He looks bad but he’s going to be ok?”

Claire nodded.

“So we ain’t gonna bother May. She’s earned her vacation.”

Steve’s lips twitched, obviously unsure with the decision.

“You ok with him hearing all this?” Claire continued, gesturing at Matt.

“Is there a reason I shouldn’t be?” Steve asked.

“Medical information is private,” Claire clarified. “Wanted to at least give you that choice, since he couldn’t make it himself.”

Steve considered it for a moment. “It’s fine,” he finally responded. “You can talk freely.”

“Good, because I don’t know where we could send him that he wouldn’t hear anyway,” Claire muttered under her breath. 

Matt wrinkled his nose.

“He had multiple stab wounds,” Claire continued. “Most of them over major arteries. He lost a lot of blood. Anyone unenhanced would have been dead. But he’s strong, and he’s healing already. He’s going to be fine.”

“What happened?” Steve asked, staring down at Pete’s body. 

“He was attacked,” Matt answered through gritted teeth. “He was out alone, and he was attacked by a woman working for Fisk who called herself Lady Bullseye.” 

Steve turned to stare at him. “Any relation to your guy?”

“She said not. That it’s just the name.”

“And what do you think?” Bucky asked. “Did she fight like Poindexter trained her?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Matt answered, and he didn’t even try to disguise the bitterness in his voice. “I wasn’t there. Maybe if you’d been there you could tell me. As it is, we’ll just have to take her word for it.”

“Wait,” Steve interrupted. “If you weren’t there, how did he get here?”

“A friend found him, saved him, and brought him to me.”

“Who was it?”

“He asked me not to say.”

“Matt.” Steve’s voice was firm. 

“He asked me not to say,” Matt repeated. “And frankly I feel like I owe him more than I owe you right now.” 

“Matt…”

“I told you this would happen,” Matt interrupted Bucky. “I fucking told you. You promised me you wouldn’t let him out of your sight.”

Steve took a step towards Matt, putting himself just slightly in front of Bucky. “You’re being unreasonable. Nobody could have known…”

“Nobody could have known?” Matt stepped even closer towards the two super-soldiers, unconcerned by their superior height and bulk. He would have been nose-to-nose with them, if they weren’t both a solid five inches taller than he was. “ _ Nobody _ could have known? Except, somehow, I knew. I told you exactly what would happen. Pete had information on Fisk, and Fisk went after him. Like I knew she would. Like I  _ told you  _ she would.”

“Are you saying Fisk knows that Pete is Spider-Man?” Steve asked.

“It wouldn’t surprise me. Wilson Fisk figured out who I was, and Vanessa is even smarter and more dangerous than he ever was. The only reason the Fisks haven’t destroyed Matt Murdock is that I have evidence that could put Vanessa away forever. We had a deal - I keep their secret, they’ll keep mine.”

Matt turned away, picking up Pete’s hand and holding it in his own. “That deal is over now, by the way. I don’t know what the fallout is going to be and I don’t care. I’m going after them.”

Steve sighed deeply. “We can deal with that later, Matt. After Pete gets better. So what’s next?” He asked Claire. “What does he need from us?”

Matt felt Claire tense. He knew that reaction. She was bracing for a fight.

“In addition to the knife wounds, he appears to have experienced a severe concussion and some spinal trauma,” Claire said carefully. “Without knowing the extent of his enhancements, it’s hard for me to say exactly what that might mean. But my professional opinion is that he shouldn’t be moved unless absolutely necessary.”

Matt fought to keep his face neutral.

“You want him to stay here?” Bucky asked, incredulous. “Versus staying in the tower’s state of the art hospital wing?”

“I didn’t say that,” Claire said quickly. “What I said was, all things being equal, we should consider keeping him still until he has had more time to heal.”

“He can stay here.”

Steve sighed again and ran his fingers through his hair. Matt didn’t need vision to know that Steve was giving him what Clint lovingly referred to as the “Captain America is 500% done with your shit” look. “Why, Matt?”

“Because she just said…”

“No,” Steve cut him off. “Why does this matter so much to you? Why are you so upset? What is going on between you two? I didn’t think you’d ever even met until Pete started asking about you at breakfast. And now he’s suddenly your responsibility? Why? Explain to me why.”

“Because this is my fault,” Matt answered honestly. He couldn’t let himself react to the fact that Pete had asked about him. “Pete came to me with pictures, to help me with a case. That put him on Fisk’s radar. If he hadn’t come to me, this might have never happened. And Vanessa Fisk wouldn’t even be on the streets if it weren’t for me making a deal with her husband. This is my fault.” He dropped Pete’s hand and turned back to face the others. “I caused this.”

Steve pressed his lips together. “Ok,” he said after a moment’s pause. “He stays here. But I’m going to want updates. Regular updates. And you’re going to have to answer questions. Tony’s going to want to know how a blind lawyer is going to protect him if Mrs. Fisk’s people show back up to finish what they started. Any suggestions?”

Matt bit his lip, thinking. “Fisk and I have a truce, albeit a shaky one. She won't send people to my home. He's safe here.”

“You believe that?” Bucky asked. 

“I do.” 

Steve considered the situation, then nodded once. “You’ll call me if anything changes?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you again, Ma'am, for everything you do,” Steve said, extending a hand to Claire.

“I’m just happy to help, sir,” she replied, and Matt could feel her blushing. 

“And you,” Steve pointed a finger at Matt as he turned to face him. “I know you, Matt. Do not, under any circumstances, go off after Fisk alone. I know you want to, but you can't. If you do, you’re liable to make things worse for everyone - especially yourself. We will wait for Pete to get better, and then we will come up with a plan together, got it.”

Matt folded his arms and leaned against the wall.

“Promise, Matt.”  
  
"I'm not an Avenger."  
  
"Yeah, but he is," Steve nodded at Pete, "so I'm stepping in and taking command of this situation." 

Matt resisted rolling his eyes. “Fine, I promise.” 

And, with a few more promises to keep them updated and call with any changes, he escorted them out the door. Matt paused after locking the door, listening to the two men climb down the stairs in silence.  _ They know better,  _ he reminded himself,  _ than to say anything until they’re back at the tower.  _ Still, he listened to them go out the building, climb onto Steve’s motorcycle, and head out into the night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should have made this comment at the end of the last chapter, but oh well. Better late than never.
> 
> This is Lady Bullseye, AKA Maki Matsumoto. 
> 
> She is sometimes the head of the Hand and has as good of aim as Bullseye, if not better, in addition to being an undead ninja. Oh, and because this is Daredevil and everything must be a soap opera... she's also a lawyer.


	7. Seven

_ [Fucking fuck of a fucksicle on a fuckstick.]  _

_ I don’t think it’s quite that bad. _

_ [It’s well known that you’re a fucking idiot.] _

_ Oh. _

Wade sat silently on the roof, arms folded in on his chest. He swayed back and forth slightly.

_ [We should leave.] _

_ Matt told me not to. _

_ [Daredevil is going to tell them you’re up here, and they’re going to take it out on your ass. And not in the fun way, either.] _

_ He told me he wouldn’t… _

The voice in Wade’s head scoffed. [ _ Like I said, you’re a fucking idiot. You saw how gone he was for the web-slinger. He’s never going to feel that way about you. Never. And Pete? Why would he pick your fugly mug over thick, dark, and handsome in there?] _

Wade could feel tears starting to prickle at his eyes. 

_ Ugh. Crying in the suit is alway so fucking gross. Snot everywhere… _

Wade heard the unmistakable roar of a Harley and hazarded a peak over the side of the building just in time to see two pairs of thick thighs draped over brown leather and blue steel. The Winter Soldier wrapped a strong arm around Captain America’s waist and pressed a kiss to the back of his neck before they rode away. Wade really wished he didn’t hate those two overgrown, geriatric baboons, because they were hot as fuck!

_ They left. Matt didn’t tell them I was here.  _

_ [Do you really think that matters? This is clearly a hurt/comfort now. Deadpool doesn’t belong in a hurt/comfort. Nobody is going to buy us as a nurse, buddy.] _

Wade sniffled.  _ It’s not. _

_ [It’s not what?] _

_ It’s not a hurt/comfort, you jerk. _

_ [Pete’s hurt. Matt’s going to comfort him. You’re up here on a roof by yourself crying like a fucking baby. I don’t know what fic you’re reading, but that’s what’s happening here.] _

_ Shut up!  _

_ [Make me.] _

Wade pouted.  _ Listen, Asshole, you keep calling me an idiot, but it’s all right there. Scroll up. Look at the tags. Threesome - M/M/M. That middle M is gonna be me and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. Plus, I’m gonna make them need to crank that rating up to Explicit! _

“Wade?” 

Matt’s voice was right behind him and Wade jumped, spinning to face him.

“Fuck, somebody should get you a bell!”

“I said your name.” Matt’s voice was quiet. Worried. “I called you a few times. You didn’t answer. Your heart is racing.” He reached out and carefully pulled off Wade’s mask, then brushed a thumb across Wade’s cheek. “You’ve been crying.”

“I was worried about the kid.” Wade shivered under the weight of Matt’s attention. He wasn’t sure why, but it felt like the man knew he was lying. 

“Alright,” Matt said after a long, assessing pause. He ran his fingers down Wade’s neck and across his shoulder. He trailed down Wade’s arm, interlacing their fingers together. “Let’s go back inside, ok?”

Wade nodded and allowed himself to be guided back through the skylight. 

Matt dropped down first, then reached up, caught Wade by the waist, and lifted him down. It was unnecessary and made Wade’s head spin. 

He pulled away from Matt, then looked around the small room they were in. He hadn’t paid attention the first time through; he’d been too anxious to just  _ get the fuck out  _ before Captain God Damn America had arrived. There were no lights on, but the light from the full moon streamed in through the yellowing windows and Wade could see ok. 

It wasn’t more than a small shed - not really. Someone had added it onto the unit at some point, probably when the building had still held warehouses and not apartments, most likely to load and unload less reputable goods that couldn't (or shouldn’t) be carried up through the freight elevators. At some point, industrial sized rolling track doors had been replaced with skylight windows and the walls had been lined with insulation and thick moving blankets. Wade wondered if it had come that way, or Matt had done it himself. The room itself was stuffed with more books than seemed to fit, shelves lining every inch of wall-space with piles spilling out onto a few small tables and the floor. Wade picked one up and turned it over in his hands, letting it fall open. The pages were thicker than most books, and he ran his fingers over the small, raised bumps.

“Law books in braille are hard to find,” Matt said softly. “When I find one, I buy it no matter how much it costs. I’ve never seen a collection as big as mine, not even in a library.” He took a step closer to Wade, raising his hands, palms wide. “May I?”

Wade nodded, not knowing what he was agreeing to but wanting it all the same. 

Matt placed his hands on the top of Wade’s head and then slowly began to work his way down, fingers delicately mapping out the bumps and grooves of Wade’s skin, the scars on his forehead, his eyes, nose, and ears. Matt traced his thumb across Wade’s lips, briefly pressing the tip into Wade’s mouth, before dragging it down Wade’s chin and neck. His hand fell loosely over Wade’s chest, splayed open, thumb and forefinger framing Wade’s neck. 

_ Holy fuck. _

_ [I concur.] _

“Do not for one second think that I don’t want this.” Matt’s voice was soft and contemplative. “But tonight, Pete needs us to take care of him. We can figure the rest out later.” He caught Wade’s lips with his own, the kiss mostly chaste with a hint of tongue suggesting a deeper need that was barely being restrained.

_ [We’re giving this man whatever he wants, right?] _

_ Fuck yes. _

_ [I’m glad we didn’t leave.] _

_ See. I’m not an idiot. _

_ [Oh, you’re still a fucking idiot. But I’m glad we didn’t leave.] _

“Come on,” Matt said, stepping away and holding out his hand again. Wade took it, and Matt lead him out of the library and down the narrow staircase.

The nurse, Claire, was just stepping out of the bedroom when they reached the main floor of the apartment. She closed the sliding doors behind her, then set her bag down on the coffee table. “I gave him something for the pain and swelling,” she said with a shrug. “It wasn’t a lot; I don’t know if it will even do anything for him, but it’s better than nothing. He’s already healing; his body’s natural responses are amazing. Monitor his breathing and his heart rate. If anything changes, call me immediately. And then call the Captain.”

Matt nodded, hand still intertwined with Wade’s.

“I don’t know how long he’ll be out. If he wakes up, try to get him to eat, drink, use the bathroom, those sorts of things. But keep him as still and calm as possible. Honestly, I don’t think he’ll wake up before tomorrow night anyway. I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon to check on him, ok?”

“Thank you, Claire.”

She stepped forward, placed and hand softly on Matt’s cheek. “Be good, Matthew. Take care of him.” She pulled back and slapped Matt gently. “And don’t make things weird. I already like him more than I like you.”

Matt laughed. As Claire headed to the door, he called after her “Which him?”

“Both of them!” Claire answered over her shoulder. “It doesn’t take much!” She shut the door behind herself and was gone.

Matt let go of Wade’s hand and walked to the door, locking it. Wade watched as Matt paused, cocked his head, and smiled softly. He walked back to Wade. “I’m going to change,” he said, gesturing at his costume. “You’re a lot bigger than I am, but we can probably find something that almost fits. If you wanted to stay, that is. I shouldn’t assume…”

“Hey.” Wade grabbed Matt’s hand this time. “I want to stay.”

Matt smiled and slipped silently into his bedroom.

_ [He’s a fucking ninja. We’re dating a fucking ninja.] _

_ No complaints here. _

_ [None at all.] _

When he returned, Matt was wearing black sweatpants and a loose grey t-shirt. He handed Wade a pair of gray sweatpants, a white shirt, and a black hoodie. “I’m not sure that shirt is going to fit,” he shook his head as he spoke, “but it’s the best I can do. You can… I mean, it doesn’t really matter but you can change in the bathroom if you want? Or… I can turn around I guess?”

Matt moved into the kitchen and kept his back to Wade as Wade started to change. The pants fit, even if they were a little short, but the shirt didn’t even come close. Wade slipped on the hoodie and kept it unzipped.

He was a little disappointed - 

_ [More than a little.] _

He was extremely disappointed that Matt would be missing out on the black boxers with little purple devil emojis that he had picked out especially for this evening. But he supposed it made sense, considering Pete’s state in the other room. 

Matt was there the moment Wade was dressed, pressing a beer into his hands. “You decided against the shirt?”

“It didn’t fit.”

“Pity.” Matt set his beer on the coffee table and placed his hands on Wade’s chest. He slowly slid them across Wade’s skin and under the hoodie, until he had his arms wrapped around Wade’s body. He tucked his nose into Wade’s neck and breathed in deeply. “Tonight didn’t go as planned.”

“It didn’t,” Wade sighed. He ran a hand gently up Matt’s arm, and watched as the man trembled slightly beneath him. “Your clothes are real soft, Darkness. I don’t think I own anything this soft.” He reversed the motion, his fingers barely touching Matt’s skin as he ran them down from Matt’s shoulder to where his elbow disappeared under Wade’s hoodie. 

Matt moaned softly. 

_ You seeing this. _

_ [Fucking hell, I can’t look away.] _

“I noticed your sheets, too, when I laid the Itsy Bitsy Spider down. They felt real nice - silky smooth.” Wade’s lips pressed just below Matt’s ear then trailed down, leaving a row of kisses along Matt’s strong jawline. “You like soft things, Matty? Like how they feel pressed up against your skin?” He dragged his teeth against Matt’s neck, and Matt whimpered. “My god, you’re so sensitive. I can’t wait to - “

“ _ Foggy. Foggy. Foggy.”  _ Matt’s phone chirped out.

“Fuck!” Matt exclaimed. He took a step back from Wade and pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I’m sorry. I need… Yeah Foggy? What’s up?” Matt said after answering the phone. “You… what? Slow down, Foggy. What’s happ - oh. Yeah, I mean he probably shouldn’t have told you that… I know. I know, Foggy… Ok, but what do you think is going to…? No. Absolutely not. No… Because. Because you know why!... Well ask him, then!... Yeah, and I’m saying the same thing... I have to go… Because I have company, that’s why! No… No!... Damn it, Foggy. That is none of your business… I’m hanging up now… Goodnight, pal.”

Matt disconnected the call. “I’m sorry. I thought that was actually going to be important.”

“Who was that?” Wade asked.

“Foggy. He’s my partner. He already found out that Spider-Man is here, and he wants to come meet him.” Matt shook his head.

Wade took a step back, bumping his leg on the coffee table and cursing. “Your partner?”

“Yeah, my… Oh.” Matt laughed. “No, not like that. We have a firm. I’m a lawyer. He’s my law partner. He’s also Hawkeye’s boyfriend, which is how he found out about Pete so fast.”

“You’re a lawyer?”

“Yeah,” Matt smiled. “That so hard to believe?”

Wade looked around. “I suppose it explains the library full of law books. But aren’t lawyers rich? Shouldn’t you have a nicer apartment than this? I mean, it’s huge but it’s a dump!”

“Thanks," Matt deadpanned. "Also, I’m not that kind of lawyer.”

Wade considered him for a moment, then took his hand again. “You’re right. Of course you’re not.” He pulled Matt down until they were both sitting on the couch. He leaned back against the armrest and stretched his legs out, tucking Matt in beside him and holding him tight. “You probably make a point of only taking innocent clients, especially those who nobody else believes. You don’t bill them if you think they can’t pay. Maybe you even send Daredevil out to protect them, if they’re scared of retribution. Am I right, Darkness?”

Matt didn’t answer. He snuggled down and buried himself deeper in Wade’s arms, hiding his nose in the crook of Wade’s neck. Still, Wade could see the rosey pink blush rising up, spreading from shirt-collar to ear.

Wade began to carefully stroke Matt’s hair.

_ [You don’t have to say anything.] _

_ You know I do. _

_ [He’ll kick you out.] _

_ Might not.  _

_ [Don’t you fucking wreck this for us!] _

“You know who I am, don’t you? What I do?”

Matt nodded.

“That going to be a problem for you? For us?”

Matt rolled over, uncovering his face. He twined his fingers through Wade’s. “I know you’re a good person. That’s enough.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I kill people, Darkness. That's my job. I was headed back from killing somebody when I found creepy-crawly in there.” Wade nodded to the bedroom where Pete was sleeping.

“God works in mysterious ways,” Matt muttered.   
  
“What?”

Matt sighed. “You killed two people today. I can smell their blood on you. I wish that wasn’t true; you’re right about that. I don’t like killing and I’m not going to lie to you and tell you otherwise. But, if you hadn’t - if you didn’t do what you do - Pete might be dead right now. God has a plan.”

“And you believe that?”

“I do. I have to.”

They lay in silence for a few minutes. Wade was finally the one to break it. “We sleeping here tonight, Darkness? On the couch?”

“If you think you can? I’m not sure what else I have to offer; this place doesn’t have a guest bedroom. But the billboard outside the window… I’ve been told it’s very bright.”

“That doesn’t bother me.” Wade stood, picked up an article of clothing from where he’d thrown it on the floor, fished around in one of the many small pouches that attached to his belt, and pulled out a neon-pink sleep mask. He tossed it to Matt, who caught it easily. Wade watched the man run his fingers over the satin and lace, as he walked over and turned off the lights. 

“Wade?” Matt asked as Wade snuggled back down onto the couch. “Why do you carry a sleep mask in your utility belt?”

“Honestly, I don’t even remember putting it in there.” Wade took the mask back and pulled it over his eyes. “That belt thing is like Mary Poppins’s bag. If I need something, especially for plot reasons, it seems to just show up.”

“...Plot reasons?”

“Don’t worry about it.” 

***

Matt startled awake. 

There was less than a second of confusion - just a blink of an eye between when his body awoke and his mind remembered why he was sleeping on the couch. His legs were tangled with Wade’s and the man’s arms were wrapped firmly around his torso, his chest pressed against Matt’s back. Matt could smell him - cinnamon candies and sandalwood, and something sour just beneath the surface that Matt knew was the cancer. 

He lifted one of Wade’s hands, pressed a kiss to the wrist, and tried to slip out of Wade’s grip.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Wade grabbed Matt’s bicep roughly, pulling him back down into his arms. 

Matt wanted to melt into the embrace but, before he could, he heard again the noise that had woken him up. Smooth skin on smother sheets, a quickening breath, a soft whimper. “Pete’s moving around.”

“Well in that case,” Wade released Matt’s arm and the two men stood, “let’s go wish him a good morning.”

They walked quietly into the bedroom, separating as they reached the bed, one on each side, instinctively surrounding Pete - protecting him. The young man stirred, and his eyes blinked open, glassy and unfocused. His head was turned towards Matt.

“Oh,” he said quietly, barely more than a breath. He turned his head and saw Wade. “Shit, this dream keeps gettin’ better n’ better.” 

“What?” Matt sat on the bed next to Pete. He reached down and brushed the hair out of Pete’s eyes. 

“Don’ worry ‘bout nothin,” Pete mumbled and slurred. “You two just do your dream business. I’ll watch.”

“Pete…”

“Nah it’s ok. I’ll join in later. My head is kinda spinny so I just wanna watch for a while.”

Across the bed, Wade snickered.

“Pete,” Matt said softly, picking up his hand. “This isn’t a dream.”

A moment of recognition flashed across Pete’s face, only to be overpowered by drowsiness. “That would bad. I would be embarrassed. It’s totally a dream.”

“Sorry to break it to you, Creepy-Crawly, but it’s not,” Wade said with a grin. “But if it helps, you have a massive concussion and were pumped full of painkillers that are probably making you loopy, so nobody's holding you to anything you say. But also - and probably more importantly - we are both massively on board with that plan.”

“Wade!” Matt scolded.

“Give me a break. I know I want it. You telling me you don’t?”

“Where am I?” Pete asked, and Matt was both thankful and a bit disappointed for the reprieve from answering the question. Yeah, he did want it. And he wouldn't mind everyone knowing that, either.

“You’re at my apartment,” Matt said, instead.

“Why… why am I at your apartment, in a bed? Is this your bed? Oh god am I in your bed?”

“It is. You are”

“Your sheets are soft… Matt,” Pete swallowed hard, “what happened? Why am I here? Did we...”

“No, Pete. We didn’t do anything. You got into a fight? Do you remember?”

Pete shook his head no and Matt could feel his muscles tense as pain shot through his body, nerves firing. He grunted slightly and bit his lip, then carefully nodded yes. He turned to Wade. “There was a woman. We fought. You... saved me.”

“I did. You were hurt real bad so I brought you here.”

“Why?” Pete blinked, obviously confused, brain muddled with sleep and drugs and injuries. “Why would you bring me here? How… how do you two even know each other?”

Matt chewed his lower lip.

“You gotta tell him, Darkness. It’s not fair that you know his secret and he doesn’t know yours.”

Matt dropped his head. He knew Wade was right. Not only wasn’t he being fair, Pete was never going to let it go now. It didn’t make sense for Wade to have brought him there, for them to be friends… more than friends… if Matt was just  _ Matt Murdock.  _

“What time is it?” Matt asked, changing the subject.

“Sun’s up,” Wade replied. “You gotta get some fucking clocks in here. And some mirrors. It’s like being around a fucking vampire.”

Matt smiled. “Come on,” he said to Pete. “Can you stand? Let’s get you to the bathroom. I’ll make you some breakfast and then we can talk after you’ve woken up a little. You drink coffee?”

“Please.” Pete sat up and carefully swung his feet over the side of the bed. “With extra sugar.” Claire had dressed him in Matt’s clothes, a t-shirt and sweatpants, and Matt wanted to reach out and smooth his hands over the soft fabric. Where everything was too small and too tight on Wade, it was too loose on Pete’s small frame, and the fabric pooled around his joints. Matt desperately wanted to kiss him. 

He didn’t. 

Instead, he offered a hand and helped to steady Pete as he stood up onto shakey feet. “Where’s my suit,” he asked.

“It got destroyed. Claire… she’s a nurse. She helped you last night. She had to cut it off of you.”

Pete’s hands flew to his face.

“I know,” Wade said, and Matt felt it was the most sincere he’d ever heard the man’s voice be. “But there wasn’t any choice. It was real bad. You were in real bad shape. You needed a doctor and she seems like a real good one. I suspect she’s had lots of practice on Matty here.”

Pete looked between the two of them, still obviously very confused.

“Bathroom first,” Matt said, leading him out the bedroom door. “Then coffee, then pancakes. Then we’ll talk.”

Matt could feel how unstable Pete was on his feet - a combination of his injuries, medication, and general confusion at waking up in a strange place and situation - but he did as he was told, and soon he and Wade were sitting at Matt’s small table. Matt had the coffee going, and was busy making pancakes. It felt good. Right. Homey.

“I wish I had more to offer,” Matt said, as he set a plate, stacked tall with pancakes, each of them perfectly golden brown, down on the table. “Fridge is pretty bare. I don’t tend to cook much for myself…”

“It’s ok,” Pete said, coffee seeming to have breathed some life back into him. “Pancakes are my favorite anyway.” He took five pancakes off the top of the pile, slathered them in butter, drenched them in syrup, and began to dig in. “Sorry. I’m starving!”

“I’ll go out and get more food this morning,” Wade said. “You gotta stay here and take care of him!” he nodded his head at Pete before Matt could even object to the idea of Wade buying him groceries. 

“So,” Pete spoke around a mouthful of pancakes, “who’s going to tell me what’s going on here?”

Matt stopped mid-bite, dropped his fork back to his plate, and sighed.

“Fair is fair, Darkness.”

“I know, Wade.” He considered Pete for a moment. He’d known Matt for only a few minutes when he’d told him he was Spider-Man. That was Wednesday. Now here it was Saturday, and nothing was like Matt would have ever expected or hoped. He trusted Pete. He did. Had from the moment he’d met him. But keeping Daredevil a secret wasn’t about trust; it was about keeping the people around him safe. Matt wanted more than anything to keep Pete safe, and knowing his secret tended to put people in danger. 

He could feel both men staring at him. He took a deep breath. “Pete… when you came to see me, in my office, you shared something very personal with me and I wasn’t totally honest with you in return. I’m sorry.” He felt Pete stiffen, and continued quickly. “It’s not bad, I hope. And I hope you can forgive me for not being as open with you as you were with me. I hope you can understand that sometimes it’s not always easy to know the right things to do, especially in situations like this.”

Pete didn’t relax. His muscles were tensed to run, or fight. 

“I’m Daredevil.”

Matt felt Pete’s heart begin to race as he stared at Matt wide-eyed. “That… oh.” He took another bite of his pancakes, chewed, and swallowed. He calmed slightly. “That makes a lot of sense, actually…”

“It does?”

“Well… yeah. For some things at least. I mean, it helps explain why I’m here, doesn’t it? And why you know so many Avengers. Some of the things you’ve done with them…”

Matt felt Pete blush and Wade’s heart skip a beat. 

“It doesn’t explain what happened yesterday, though?”

“Ohh! What happened yesterday?” Wade asked with a grin. “And don’t think for a second we're not coming back to what you  _ did  _ with the Avengers.” He squeezed Matt’s thigh under the table. 

“Well, I saw Daredevil out last night. I…” Pete looked between the two of them, obviously unsure of their relationship. 

“It’s ok,” Matt prompted. “No more secrets.”

Pete nodded tentatively. “I saw Daredevil out last night. He… you... flirted with me. Or, at least that’s how it felt. Maybe I was reading into it. I was still pretty upset from the coffee shop the day before. Oh…” Pete stumbled. “You probably don’t realize… You ate lunch at a coffee shop two days ago. I was there… wait. How… if you’re blind, how do you…?”

Matt held out a hand, stopping him. “That’s enough to unpack all at once. I am blind, but I knew you were at the coffee shop. I can tell other ways - the sound of you breathing, the way you smell, the feel of the air moving around you. Those are the same things I use to fight. I wanted to talk to you, but I didn’t know how to say something without giving myself away. I wished that you would come over and talk to me, but you didn’t. And you’re not wrong; Daredevil was flirting with you. I’m sorry.”

“But why were you flirting with me? You don’t like me - not like that. In your office… you made it very clear that you weren’t interested at all. And Natasha said that, if you were interested in someone you acted.”

Matt shook his head. “Nat says a lot of things for someone who doesn’t say very much. I’m sorry. At my office… there was some confusion. I...”

“Oh oh oh! I can help with this one,” Wade said, waving his hand in the air like a school child wanting to be called on. He was practically beaming at both Matt’s embarrassment and at his knowing a secret. “Matt thought you were a kid.”

Matt could hear Pete’s teeth grind as he clenched his jaw.

“But like, actually. Like, a youth. Underage. Jailbait. Not of the age of consent. A Lolita. A…”

“Wade, we get the point,” Matt interrupted. He knew he was blushing now, but Wade was laughing and Pete was biting back a smile, so it wasn’t all terrible. 

Pete took another bite of pancakes, obviously fighting to regain his composure and not laugh at Matt’s reddening cheeks. “So last night, Daredevil flirted with me, and then he left, and I was confused and I wasn’t paying attention, and then that woman - Lady Bullseye - she came out of nowhere. She was so fast and so quiet, before I even knew she was there she had thrown two knives that hit me right in the wrist and disabled my web shooters. She took out Jarvis next, which shouldn’t even be possible.” He turned to Wade. “If you wouldn’t have shown up, I don’t know what would have happened.” He let his hand drop to the table, still holding his fork tightly.

“I’m sorry, Pete,” Matt said, resting his hand over Pete’s. “I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

“It’s not your fault, Darkness. You couldn’t have known.” Wade squeezed Matt’s thigh again, gently this time, then left his hand lying on Matt’s knee.

“It’s nobody’s fault,” Pete said. He took Wade’s hand with his free one, lacing their fingers together. “And it all worked out in the end.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and for all of your comments! They keep me motivated and I love them!!!!
> 
> For those of you reading along in real time, you get an extra joke here that anyone joining after the fact won't have gotten. Wade says that he's going to make the author crank the rating up to explicit... Well, I'm currently drafting Chapter 10 and... well... he's not wrong. I'm not sure if I'll change that rating the next time I update, or wait until Chapter 10 when the explicit stuff actually happens, but the rating will be changing. It's filth. You're welcome.
> 
> For anyone who is curious, I’m envisioning Matt’s apartment as some sort of cross between his Netflix apartment and his comic apartment. This Matt is not fancy enough to have Comic-Book-District-Attorney-Matt-Murdock’s huge-ass brownstone, but I really like the idea of his having a braille law library and I needed to find a home for that. 
> 
> Also, can we all take a moment to admire the statue (or, at least I hope it’s a statue) that Matt has in his library? Of course you have sexy lady statues just scattered about your apartment, Matt. Of course you do...


	8. Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've added the tag "Minor Daddy Kink" to this chapter, because I know that bothers some people. Honestly, it's just Wade screwing around, but I didn't want there to be any unwanted surprises for anyone.

**Day 1:**

Claire came back that afternoon as promised. Matt gestured for Wade to unlock the door for her when she was halfway up the stairs, and she didn’t even bother to knock, which all combined meant that Matt didn’t have to move from his spot on the couch and that he didn’t have to disturb Pete, who was resting with his head pillowed in Matt’s lap. It also meant that, when Claire walked into the apartment, she was greeted first by Wade who was putting away groceries in the fridge, followed by Matt who waved at her from where he was sitting. From her perspective, Claire would have been able to see Pete’s feet hanging off the other end of the couch. 

_ Get him to rest. Don’t make it weird,  _ Matt thought.  _ Mission fucking accomplished.  _

Claire stared at Wade for a moment. In addition to the groceries, which he had picked up as promised, Wade had stopped at his apartment and picked up a few changes of clothes. He’d put on his own pants - light grey sweats slung low on his hips - but he was still wearing Matt’s hoodie, open with nothing underneath. (“It’s softer than anything I own,” he’d answered when Matt had asked. “I’m already spoiled by your finery.”) He was also wearing his mask, which he had put on to go to the store - albeit not the rest of his costume - and he had it pulled up to expose his mouth so he could sneak grapes as he put the groceries away. “What’s up, doc?” he asked, as he popped another grape into his mouth. 

“I’m a nurse,” Claire answered, “not a doctor.”

“Yeah, but ‘What’s up, Night Nurse?’ just doesn’t have the same ring to it, especially not in the middle of the day.”

Claire raised an eyebrow but said nothing, and walked over to Matt on the couch. Matt’s fingers softly combed through Pete’s hair. Claire smiled down at them. “How is he?”

“Woke up at about 9, I think.” Matt turned his face towards Wade, who nodded once in confirmation. “He ate some pancakes and we’ve been taking it easy all day.”

“How’s he seem, though?”

Matt shrugged. “Tired. Dizzy sometimes, but not bad. He was a bit disoriented when he woke up, but he got over that fairly quickly.”

Wade snorted. Claire gave him a look, but didn’t ask. “How long has he been asleep?”

“Not sure. What time is it now?”

“Almost three,” Wade answered, walking over from the kitchen and sitting down in one of Matt’s arm chairs, a bunch of grapes dangling from his fingertips. He tossed one at Matt, who caught it between his front teeth, chewed, and swallowed it down.

“Shit. It’s been four hours. No wonder my legs are asleep.” He ran his fingers down the side of Pete’s face and across his chin. “Pete, sweetheart. Can you wake up for me? Claire, the nurse I told you about, she’s here to check on you.”

Pete stirred, blinked his eyes, and smiled up at Matt. His heart fluttered in his chest and his breath caught in his throat, and  _ God,  _ those were sounds that Matt could get used to. Carefully he helped Pete to sit up. 

Matt and Wade both stayed close as Claire went through her list, checking Pete’s vision and his reflexes, his memory and his coordination, his concentration, balance, and hearing. She squeezed his arms and legs, had him wiggle his toes, turn his head side to side. When she was done, she smiled at him. 

“You’re healing really fast, and that’s good. Amazing, actually. But you’re sluggish; you’re clearly concussed. I want you to take it easy for a while, ok. At least a week.” Pete started to object but she cut him off. “I don’t want to hear it. Whatever argument you have, about how you’re the _only one who can protect the city_ or whatever, I’ve already heard it from this guy,” she jerked her head at Matt, “and we all know it’s bullshit. These two can cover for you, but only one at a time because someone needs to be here with you. You could have a seizure.” 

Matt nodded.

“Call up Clint, or…” she turned back to Matt, “Doesn’t Danny owe you a favor?” 

Matt grimaced at the suggestion.

“Come on. He’s a great guy, and he’d love it if you called in your favor. He wants the two of you to be friends.”

“You just want him to have a friend so you can hang out with Colleen and not have him tagging along.”

Claire rose from where she’d been kneeling alongside the couch. “I’m not going to dignify that with a response!” 

“Because you know I’d know you were lying!” Matt laughed at her.

She reached up and ruffled his hair. “You look good, Matthew. Happy. Well rested.” She looked around the apartment. “Call me if anything changes, otherwise I’ll come back in a few days to check in. Nothing strenuous until then.” She pointed a finger at Pete.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said quietly, hunching his shoulders. 

“That goes double for the two of you,” she said, turning her finger to Wade and Matt. “Don’t let him over exert himself.”

Wade grinned and threw another grape into the air, catching it in his mouth. “Got it,” he said after crunching into the grape. “No funny business for a week.” 

Matt could feel Pete blush, and he bit his lower lip to avoid smiling. Claire turned to him and he just shrugged. 

“I’m leaving! Call me if anything changes or if you need anything. Call Danny!”

“Bye Claire,” Matt called after her, locking the door behind her. 

He was absolutely not calling Danny.

**Day 2:**

_ [So what the fuck is happening here? This is one of those montage chapters?] _

_ Looks like it. _

_ [How do we feel about those? They seem like an awkward way to do a time jump to me.] _

_ But they keep the story moving, so that’s good.  _

_ [Yeah… Hey! Does this chapter have a title? Like, “Five Times Wade Wilson Got Just a Bunch of Dick, and One Time He Got Even More?”] _

_ Ummm… not that I can tell? I think it’s just called “Eight.” _

_ [God, that’s so fucking lazy.] _

It was only the second evening of what Wade basically considered sex-free house arrest, and the three of them were bored. They had already covered more personal details than Wade was comfortable with, and he suspected Matt felt the same way. Pete, on the other hand, seemed perfectly fine with all the sharing, and Wade was pretty sure the kid had gone to just a whole bunch of therapy. 

_ [Good for him.] _

_ Nobody implied anything otherwise.  _

The lack of a TV, combined with that obnoxious fucking neon billboard, had driven them up onto the roof, where Matt was quietly describing interesting anticdotes occurring across the city, his voice low and rough. 

“There’s a woman,” Matt hummed and smiled to himself. “She lives in Chelsea and she’s in love with the barista at the coffee shop she goes to. She goes there every day, just to see the barista. She doesn’t even like coffee.” He laughed. 

Wade was sitting, his back leaned up against the low wall surrounding Matt’s rooftop.

_ [You mean the parapet?] _

_ Fuck off and let the narrator tell her story already. We’re never going to get to the sex parts if you keep interrupting. _

_ [Good point. Continue, please.] _

Matt was sitting cross-legged between Wade’s thighs, leaning back into his chest. Pete was curled up on a blanket, head resting on Matt’s lap. He had his arm flipped up over his face, and Wade was holding his hand, gently stroking his fingers over the young man’s knuckles and across his palm. Matt had one hand in Pete’s hair, and the other was resting on Wade’s thigh. 

“She’s telling all of this to her cat, and the cat…” Matt laughed again. “...the cat is talking back to her. She’ll say something, and then the cat will meow back. They’re having a conversation.” He paused. “It’s beautiful.”

_ He’s making it up. He has to be. He said his hearing is enhanced, but there’s no way… _

Wade didn’t care. Real or pretend, this is the calmest he’d felt in a long time. As close to pain free. Before they’d headed up to the roof, Matt had laid him down on those fucking silk sheets and given him a massage. It hadn’t had a happy ending, as much as Wade had made it very clear that he would be 100% ok with that, but Matt insisted that they should wait until Pete could play too. He had worked his fingers over Wade’s body in ways that left him feeling better than he had in years. He hadn’t dug into tight muscles, like Wade had expected, but instead had focused on Wade’s hands and feet and forehead. He’d run gentle brushes of his palms, splayed wide, across Wade’s chest and down his arms, and then pressed strong fingers into Wade’s wrist. He kneaded his knuckles softly down Wade’s back and thighs, only to dig his thumbs into Wade’s heels and the joint between his first two toes. By the end, Wade felt like he was floating. 

And now they were on the roof, drinking water and not beer, Matt telling his stories and Pete curled up like an overgrown puppy at his feet. 

“You’re kind of a voyeur, aren’t you Darkness.”

“Ecoteur.”

“What?”

“I’m an ecoteur. A voyeur watches. An ecoteur listens.”

“Is that so?”

Matt hummed. “It’s an important distinction. In New York, voyeurism and unwanted surveillance is a class E offense, punishable by up to four years in prison. Eavesdropping, on the other hand, is only criminal if recording is involved.”

“And you know all this because?”

“A lot of interesting things come across my desk.”

“I volunteer as tribute,” Pete muttered, the first indication Wade had in a while that the spider wasn’t asleep.

“Hush you.” Matt tightened his grip in Pete’s hair slightly. “Also, give it a few more days and then that can be arranged.” 

Pete whimpered slightly, and curled in on himself even tighter.

Matt looked like he was about to say something, then stopped, shutting his mouth and cocking his head to the side. Wade opened his mouth and Matt held up a hand, stopping him. “We’re about to have company,” he said softly.

“Who?” Pete asked, sitting up.

“Steve and Bucky,” Matt replied. He tilted his head again, then sighed. “Fuck. And Tony Stark.”

“I need to go,” Wade said, standing quickly. He held a hand out to Pete, who accepted it and allowed himself to be lifted to his feet. 

“Why?” Pete asked.

“There’s no time,” Matt said at the same time. “I’m sorry. If it was just Barnes and Rogers…”

Wade looked towards Midtown. Matt was right. The flare that was Iron Man was already streaking towards them, getting bigger by the second. There wasn’t time. He braced himself.

“I don’t understand,” Pete said, as Wade stepped away from him. “What’s happening.”

“Hopefully nothing,” Matt said quietly. His voice had changed to something cold and hard and Wade watched as his posture transformed; he stood up taller, shoulders back, fists clenching and unclenching as if preparing for a fight.

The rooftop shook slightly when Iron Man landed, and Matt winced. Wade suddenly wondered… if he really could hear conversations taking place inside an apartment blocks away, how loud must those thrusters be?

[ _ Ha! You said “thrust.”] _

_ Your timing needs work. _

Iron Man’s faceplate raised up and his eyes immediately locked on Wade. Matt took a step to the side, placing himself between the two men. 

“Nice to see you, Tony.” Wade noted that Matt’s voice was perfectly neutral. “Although I believe it’s common courtesy to call or send a text before showing up at someone’s home. Also, would you mind calling off Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes? The order to ‘break down my damn door’ seems like a bit of overkill considering we’re all friends here.”

“You couldn’t have possibly heard…Barnes.” Wade realized he must have spoken that last word into some sort of headset. “Don’t break down Murdock’s door. This time. We’re on the roof.” There was a pause where Wade assumed he must have been listening to the reply, and then Iron Man’s eyes were locked on him again. “Want to tell me what’s going on here, Matthew?” he asked, never breaking eye contact with Wade. 

“In terms of what, Anthony?” Matt countered. “I’m going to need you to be more specific.” And holy shit Wade wanted to see this man in a courtroom, because Iron Man was stalking towards him in all of his mechanical terror inducing gloriousness, and Matt wasn’t flinching at all. 

_ [Ok hear me out. We do a crime. But like, another BABY crime. Get him to defend us. He gets us off, and then he gets us OFF.] _

_ I think you can clearly see this is still neither the time nor the place, but I like the way you think and I wish to subscribe to your newsletter.  _

“In terms of all of this.” Tony gestured vaguely at the air around him. “One of mine gets hurt and he ends up - not in the state of the art medical facility that I paid for, by the way, with my own money - but in the home of some low-rent lawyer being cared for by an unemployed ex-nurse, sitting on the roof of a dump of an apartment building, totally unprotected despite the recent attack on his life, and fraternizing with Deadpool of all people. Or do you need me to get more specific than that?”

Iron Man was fully in Matt’s face but Matt didn’t blink or shy away. He didn’t take a step back. “Pete,” he said calmly, addressing him without turning away from Iron Man. “You are supposed to be resting. I’m going to ask you to please sit back down.” He pointed behind himself at the blanket, and Pete sat without a word. 

“Disregarding the irrelevant and ad hominem attacks on both my and Nurse Temple’s character,” Matt continued to Iron Man, “as well as the disparaging comments about my place of residence, I’d be happy to address your concerns.”

Tony rolled his eyes.

“Mr. Parker was injured by one of Vanessa Fisks operatives, precisely as I warned he would be,” Matt continued. “I requested he be placed under the protective custody of the Avengers, specifically Sergeant Barnes,” Matt nodded at Bucky, whose head was just coming up over the fire escape, “but my request was ignored. Mr. Parker was still actively under attack when Mr. Wilson discovered him. Mr. Wilson defended Mr. Parker, during which he sustained bodily injuries of his own, the extent of which would have been fatal to an unenhanced individual. When the assailant was subdued, Mr. Wilson brought the then unconscious Mr. Parker to me, here, as it was the closest known safe house. We were then advised, by a highly respected and qualified medical professional - one who is well known as having extensive experience caring for enhanced individuals, and who has been called in to your ‘state of the art medical facility’ as a specialist on more than one occasion, if I recall correctly - to not have him moved any more than necessary. A decision was reached by myself, as well as Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes, that he should stay here. When Mr. Parker regained consciousness, he confirmed his preference for that decision. He is free to leave at any time. 

“In regards to who Mr. Parker does and does not fraternize with, I hope I do not need to remind you that he is an adult and is fully capable of making those decisions for himself. As opposed to, for example, when he was recruited - as a minor - to fight in a conflict between enhanced individuals, wherein he was not given full information on the situation in order to make an informed decision. That being said, it is very likely that Mr. Wilson saved Mr. Parker’s life, and it is my personal opinion that he should be granted the respect and gratitude that said actions afford.”

Bucky muttered something under his breath, earning himself a smile from Matt and an elbow to the ribs from Steve. 

“Finally,” Matt paused, taking a deep breath, “in response to Mr. Parker sitting out on a roof, unprotected, I would agree that would be a concern if it were accurate. Mr. Parker has proven to be fully capable of defending himself; however, during his entire stay here, including prior to your arrival, he has been under the protection of two enhanced individuals.”

“Matt,” Steve said softly.

Tony frowned at him, then turned back to Matt. “I’m sure you’re counting Derp-pool, but who else you got in there, Murdock.” 

Matt cocked his head to the side. “This is my second time asking, and there won't be a third. Please refrain from personal attacks against my associate. They are both uncalled for and unbefitting someone of your status. I believe you are aware of how active I am in the battle to pass more protections for enhanced individuals and mutants especially, and it was my understanding that you had donated resources to that cause as well.”

“Yeah, yeah, fine, fine. Where’s the rest of your muscle? Who else are you hiding in your apartment? You got that Rand kid in there? I’ve got some words for him anyway. Their latest patent is totally a rip-off of my...”

“It’s me, Tony.”

“It’s… what?”

“Me. I’m the muscle. I’m Daredevil.”

Tony snorted. “No you’re not.”

“Yeah, I am," Matt said with a sigh. "We can go inside and I can show you the suit if you want. Or…” He didn’t turn his head. “Hey Bucky.”

“Yeah man. I got you.” Bucky pulled a knife out of a hidden pocket and threw it at Matt’s head. Matt caught it, palms flat together, about six inches from his face.

“What the hell, man? A knife? What if I hadn’t caught it?”

Bucky shrugged. “I have faith in you? You’re all about faith, right?” 

Matt shook his head, flipped the knife in his hand, and walked over to pass it back to Bucky. “I’m Daredevil,” he said, turning back to Tony. “I hope that I can count on you to keep that information private?”

“They knew?” Tony nodded at Steve and Bucky. “And them?” he nodded at Pete and Wade. “Who else? Am I the only one who didn’t know? Jesus, Matt. I thought we were friends.”

“We are friends, Tony.” Matt softened slightly. “No, you’re not the only one who doesn’t know. Steve and Bucky knew, and Pete and Wade. Clint, Natasha… a few of my friends: Karen and Foggy, and Claire. That’s it, ok?”

“That’s still a lot.”

“It’s not, really.”

Tony thought about it for a moment, clearly processing everything in his head. “What about Pepper? Does Pepper know?”

Matt shook his head, smiling. “Pepper doesn’t know.”

“So what you’re saying is I know a secret and Pepper doesn’t know it?”

“Yeah.”

“Ok. I can live with that. Let’s go inside. I want to talk more to Dead-Tub-Time-Machine here.” 

They all moved towards the open skylight, Wade sticking close to Matt’s side, delaying the inevitable as long as possible. Bucky placed a hand on Matt’s shoulder, and Matt turned to face him.

“You know Pepper knows, right?”

“I figured as much. She knows everything.”

“And the others? Thor? Jessica and Danny and Colleen and Luke? Frank Castle?!?”

Matt sighed. “Let’s just let the man have his win, ok?” 

**Day 3:**

Matt woke up slowly, his nose tucked into the crook of Pete’s neck, Wade’s arm hitched over his waist. They had agreed not to move the relationship to the next level physically until Pete got the all clear from Claire, but they had also agreed that they should all share Matt’s bed. It made the most sense. They had all offered, in turn, to sleep on the couch… well, Matt and Pete had offered at least… Wade had said there was no way he was missing out on silk sheets. But the couch wasn’t really big enough for anyone to sleep on comfortably anyway, and that wasn’t even taking into account the billboard. They were adults. They all agreed that they could share a bed without making it sexual. (“But there was only one bed!!!!” Wade had shouted, cackling.)

It was Monday, which meant Matt needed to get his ass out of said bed and go to work. He couldn’t bail. They had cases, and he’d abandoned Foggy far too many times. He’d reached out to Jessica and asked her to keep watch over the apartment while he was gone. He truly believed that Vanessa wouldn’t come after Pete while he was in Matt’s apartment, but he wasn’t taking any chances. He still wasn’t entirely sure why Vanessa had sent Lady Bullseye after Spider-Man. He assumed that it was because of Pete taking the pictures, but he had no way to know that for sure. He needed to run through his opening statements, follow up on three depositions, verify that his apartment was safe, and look into why the Fisks were after Pete in a way that wouldn’t draw attention to any of them. 

Oh, and apparently he needed to ask Danny to help him track down Fisk because he’d promised  _ Captain America _ that he wouldn’t do that alone. He hadn’t promised he wouldn’t find a patsy to do it with him, though. Plus it would make Claire happy and piss Tony Stark off at the same time, both of which were things he was very interested in doing right about now. 

Which was all to say that there were things to get done. But at this particular moment, he wanted absolutely nothing to do with any of them.

The evening before had, despite its inauspicious start, gone surprisingly well. Stark’s anger had transitioned into his more typical snark, and - while Matt would certainly never admit it to Stark or anyone else, nor would he be forgiving him anytime soon for the way he’d barged into Matt’s private space - by the end of the night the billionaire was holding in his laughter towards some of Wade’s better placed jokes.

(“Language!” Tony had exclaimed after an unfathomable string of curse words had fallen from Wade’s lips. He jerked his head at Steve. “You’re going to upset grandpa’s delicate constitution.”

“Delicate?!?” Wade had repeated incredulously. “Delicate?!? He doesn’t look like he’d know delicate if it was stroking his hairy ballsack!”

“Nothing hairy about ‘em,” Bucky had retorted. “Also, did you get your superpowers by sniffing glue?” 

Wade grinned back. “Only as much as yours came from sniffing the good Captain’s ass.”)

Tony had eventually admitted that it made sense for Pete to stay in Matt’s apartment, but only after Pete had made it exceptionally clear that he wasn’t leaving regardless of what Tony said. 

Pete and Wade had unanimously agreed that, for lawyering the shit out of Tony Stark (“and being fucking sexy as hell while doing it!”, Wade had added), Matt should be given the honor of sleeping in the middle that night. 

And that was where he found himself now.

Pete stirred, and Matt pressed a soft kiss into the back of his neck, eliciting a whimper from the younger man. Matt continued, kissing across Pete’s back and along the line of his shoulder blade. “Do you want me to stop?” he whispered, lavishing kisses over Pete’s bicep.

Pete shook his head no and rolled to face Matt. “Don’t want you to stop, but I think you’d better anyway. Unless we’re done listening to that nurse of yours?”

Matt sighed and propped himself up on his elbows. He placed his thumbs over Pete’s forehead and wrapped his fingers around the sides of Pete’s head. “Still concussed,” Matt pouted. “Which means I stop.”

“Don’t gotta stop everything,” Wade said, sliding the hand that had been on Matt’s waist down over his hip bone. 

“Wade,” Matt choked out. “Please. We agreed.” 

“We agreed you two wouldn’t do anything without me,” Pete said softly, inching closer to Matt. He pressed their foreheads gently together. “But I’m right here.”

Matt shook his head, fighting to keep his hips from twisting. He was so hard and Wade’s fingers were so close. This wasn’t the plan. It wasn’t fair. He wasn’t supposed to... “Fuck,” he whimpered as he shimmied himself closer to Wade, seeking out more contact. Wade’s fingers slid down across Matt’s lower abs. 

“You’re so good to us, Darkness,” Wade cooed, stroking the palm of his hand over Matt’s tented boxers. “You let us stay in your house, cook us food, and now you’re heading out to work while we stay here. You take such good care of us, Daddy. Let us return the favor.”

Matt rolled his eyes at the pet name, but bit back his complaint as Wade pushed his waistband down and slid his hand down Matt’s shaft. Matt could hear Pete’s heart racing. When Pete flicked out his tongue to lick his lips, Matt could feel the moisture and the heat. Wade’s hand was dry and a little rough, and it stung, but still Matt whimpered when he pulled it away. 

“Shhhh….” Wade soothed him, and he bit down gently on Matt’s shoulder. He held his hand out, and Matt heard Pete’s heart flutter. “Go ahead,” Wade said to him. “Spit in it.”

Matt felt Pete’s sharp intake of breath as much as he heard it, surprise and arousal evident in the young man’s scent. He was silent for a moment, obviously searching for some sort of confirmation, then did as Wade said. 

Wade’s hand was back on Matt immediately, ruthlessly, tugging hard and twisting at the head, fingers flicking over the tip of Matt’s dick. It was aggressive and filthy, wet noises filling the room. Matt, oversensitive as he was usually, was even more sensitive first thing in the morning, and it was over embarrassingly quickly as he spilled over Wade’s hand and across his own chest and silk sheets. 

“Just like that, Daddy.” Wade kissed him behind his ear. 

“Don’t call me that,” he said, yanking the pillow out from under Pete’s head and whacking Wade with it. “It’s weird. Plus, you’re older than I am.”

“Hey!” Pete yelped. “Rude! And after we were just so nice to you, too.”

Matt hummed. “True. Who’s next, then?” he started to ask, when his alarm clock started to chirp. 

“Just you today, _ Daddy _ .” Wade grinned around the final word. “But don’t worry. There will be plenty of time for the rest of us soon. Now get your butt in the shower!”

Matt groaned, wanting to protest but knowing Wade was right. He grimaced as he pulled his boxers back up, the waistband dragging through the come cooling on his stomach. Rolling over, he pushed himself up onto his left forearm and cupped Wade’s chin with his right hand. He pulled them together and kissed Wade deeply, then rolled back over and repeated the motion with Pete on the other side. “Soon,” he murmured into Pete’s lips. “So soon.”

The kiss was interrupted when Wade slapped Matt on his ass, hard. “Get up. Get moving! Go! Don’t keep Froggy waiting.”

“It’s Foggy,” Matt corrected, forcing himself to separate himself from the other two and scoot off the end of the bed. “And I’m going.”

Matt felt Wade and Pete draw closer together as he stumbled out of the bedroom and into the bathroom, turning on the shower and letting it run while he relieved himself and brushed his teeth. Fortunately, basically unlimited hot water and an exceptionally large shower were one of the few highlights of his otherwise dumpy apartment building. He stepped into the shower and let the water pouring over him overwhelm his senses, lingering for far longer than necessary, savoring the silence, cocooning himself in it. 

When he stepped out, he could hear the other two moving about his apartment and he smiled to himself. Outside of a short stint living with Foggy during law-school, he had lived alone ever since leaving the orphanage. Other people - their constant sounds and smells and movement - it got to be too much pretty quickly. Granted it had only been two days, but he didn’t feel that way at all about Pete and Wade. Everything about their being in his home felt right. 

He smelled coffee that had been started. As he dried off, he listened to Wade puttering around in the kitchen, pulling out bacon and eggs and pans. Pete was reclined on the couch. He’d originally put up some fuss to the idea of needing to rest as much as possible, super-hero instincts telling him that he should just be able to push through and take it. But once they’d put their foot down, Pete had adapted to the lazy lifestyle fairly well. He’d emailed his school and told them he’d be missing a week due to a concussion, and they’d already replied letting him know not to worry. Nothing made Matt happier than hearing Pete flop down on his couch in what he knew to be a particularly warm and sunny spot, or curling up with his head in Matt’s lap, or just generally stretching out wherever he could find a cozy place to lie down in Matt’s apartment. The ripple of air caused by Pete’s strong, flexible muscles as they tensed up briefly and then relaxed; the small sounds he made as he was getting comfortable; the smell of his skin, sweet and clean… Matt couldn’t get enough of any of it. 

Wade had a mug of coffee waiting for him when, towel wrapped around his waist, he stepped out of the bathroom, and by the time he was dressed Wade was setting three plates with eggs and bacon and toast on the table. The conversation while they ate was simple and easy, and too soon Matt found himself finding his jacket and keys, and sliding his glasses onto his face. “Be good,” he said, grasping his cane with his right hand. He pointed at Pete. “Don’t exert yourself, and call me if you need me.”

“Yes  _ Daddy, _ ” Wade teased, and Matt left the apartment shaking his head and laughing quietly to himself. 

There was a lot to do and the day passed quickly. By the time Matt was walking home, a plan was starting to form in his head. He didn’t want to bring anyone else into this - it would only put them in danger - but he was also sure that Vanessa had someone watching all of them at all times which made it challenging to act. They needed someone outside of their circle; someone the Fisks would have no reason to know or suspect.

That afternoon, they’d met with the opposing counsel for a case they were working. After the team had left, Matt had sought out Foggy:

_ “Hey pal. Did you notice anything unusual about Ms. Walters?” Matt had asked. _

_ “Unusual how?” _

_ “She… I’m not sure exactly. But I think she’s enhanced.” _

_ Foggy had snorted. “Yeah, buddy. She’s enhanced. Doesn’t take your super observational skills to figure that one out.” _

_ Matt had been taken aback. “How can you tell?” _

_ “Well for starters, she has green skin!” _

All of his thoughts and planning were pushed out of his head as he neared his apartment. The first thing he heard was Wade shouting. The second, the pounding of Pete’s heart. 

Matt started to run, uncaring of who might see him, senses stretched to their limit scanning his apartment. Jessica was in there too. Her heart rate slightly elevated, although nowhere near as high as the other two, but outside of that he couldn’t sense anyone. If it was the Hand, though… they could sometimes mask their heartbeats and breathing…

Matt decided to head to the rooftops, where it was easier for him to move unseen. If Vanessa was having him followed then it didn’t matter, they would know he was coming, but maybe - just maybe - he could get the drop on them.

_ He shouldn’t have left. He shouldn’t have fucking left. He should have trusted his instincts, stayed with them, never gotten out of bed this morning. He had just found them. If something happened _ … Matt leaped to his rooftop from the adjacent one, landing in a soft roll, when he heard Wade shout.

“TAKE THAT ASSHAT! YOU FIRE THAT GUN LIKE A FUCKING PUSSY! MY GRANDMA COULD DO A BETTER JOB YOU FECKLESS CUNTWAD!”

Matt hesitated for just a heartbeat - he hadn’t heard any gunfire - then he threw open the skylight, dropped into his library, and burst through the doors onto the landing overlooking the main room. 

Wade was standing on the couch holding an oddly shaped plastic object. Pete was reclined in a hammock of webs that had been affixed to Matt’s ceiling. Jessica was sitting cross legged on the kitchen counter, laughing.

“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth, jackass?” Matt heard a tinny voice that he didn’t recognize.

“WHAT? NO, I DON’T KISS MY MOTHER WITH THIS MOUTH. BUT I DO FUCK YOUR MOTHER WITH IT, YOU UNENTHUSIASTIC NOB GUZZLER!! NO, DON’T GO GET YOUR FRIEND YOU…”

Matt cleared his throat. 

Wade jerked his head up. “Ah shit. I gotta go. Daddy’s home,” Wade said to - as far as Matt could tell - nobody in particular. He heard the voice again, small and far away, and realized that Wade and Pete were both wearing headsets. “What…” he stuttered, walking down the stairs. “Is everyone ok?”

“Of course,” Pete replied, dropping softly down from the ceiling. “Why wouldn’t we be?” 

“I heard…” Matt focused, trying to determine what exactly he’d heard. “Shouting. Wade was shouting and your heart was elevated and…” he noticed the heat radiating from a large rectangle on the wall. “Were you playing video games? When did I get a tv?”

“Tony dropped it off earlier today,” Pete answered, concerned. “Is that ok?”

“It’s… yeah.” Matt shook his head. “Of course it’s ok. I…” he grabbed Pete and pulled him into a tight hug. “Jesus, I thought something was actually wrong.” He reached out a hand to Wade, who joined them. “You were shouting and I…” Matt bit down on his lip, at a loss for words.

“Aww… Darkness. I’m sorry. I was just laying the smack down on some moosefucker. Didn’t even think about you hearing it and worrying.”

“Why did Stark bring a TV?” Matt asked, pulling them both closer while trying to get his own breathing and pounding heart under control. He half felt like he might cry, and that certainly wasn’t what he needed right now.

“Oh, you know how Tony can get,” Pete answered softly. “He said he noticed you didn’t have one. Something about us needing a way to occupy our time that wasn’t…”

“What is even happening here right now?” Jessica interrupted, jumping off the counter. “Is this like, a sex thing?”

Wade looked up, and Matt didn’t even want to think about the kind of look he must have given Jessica that caused her to respond: “Ah, fuck. It is a sex thing, isn’t it? Gross. Matt, I’m leaving. It’s been fun. You need more whiskey.” 

Matt lifted up his head at that last one. “I had a full bottle, Jess!” 

She shrugged. “Don’t just blame me.  _ Noobmaster69 _ over there had three glasses himself.”

“How dare you?!?” Wade exclaimed. 

“Well you did!”

“That. Madam, is besides the point!!”

“Noobmaster69?” Matt asked, pulling away from the hug. “You know what, I don’t actually care.” He kissed both of them in turn, then followed Jessica who was headed for the door. “Thank you again,” he said, stepping out into the hallway with her. 

Jessica shook her head quickly. “It was nothing.” She considered Matt for a moment. Finally she smiled. “That twink of yours is really something else. I get why you’re so interested in keeping him safe.”

Matt raised his eyebrows. 

“I just… Fuck, Matt. I’m not going to lie to you; I want to break him over my knee. Sharing is caring, you know.”

Matt chuckled softly. “First off, he’s not  _ my twink _ so you’d have to discuss that with him directly, but as far as I can tell he’s not into women at all… so you might be disappointed. Second, he could break you in half.”

“No way.”

“Absolutely.”

Jessica thought about that for a second, eyes going glassy. “Even fucking better.”

Matt rolled his eyes. “I’ll see you later, Jess. Same time tomorrow, I guess.”

“You guess?”

Matt ran his hand through his hair, causing it to stand up on end.

“Not ready to leave them alone again, yet?” Jessica asked.

Matt shook his head, no. 

“Everything was fine, Matt. Really. You don’t need to worry. Honestly, it seems like you don’t need me at all. Both of them can take care of themselves; everything doesn’t need to be on you.” Jessica paused. “Although, I suppose if you haven’t learned that lesson yet, my telling you probably isn’t going to do much.”

"Also, you’re not a great role model,” Matt said, forcing a smile.   
  
“Asshole.” Jessica turned and walked down the hallway. “Catch you around, Murdock,” she said softly over her shoulder, as she disappeared into the stairwell. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> During day 2, Bucky says, “Holy shit that’s hot.” Only Steve and Matt could hear him. 
> 
> As I said before (but I don't want to surprise anyone), I'm going to be cranking this baby up to an E rating fairly soon. Also, I'm going to start adding a few additional tags - mostly things that Wade wants to do in upcoming chapters. He keeps whispering in my ear and it's a bit terrifying, if I'm being totally honest.
> 
> Let me know what you think! Your comments are loved and appreciated beyond all else!!!!


	9. Nine

**Day 4:**

_ This was a terrible plan.  _

Pete had only wanted to do something nice.

It wasn’t just that Matt had let him stay at his house, and that he and Wade were watching his back while he was healing, it was the fact that he really liked both of them. And yeah, he recognized that things were moving a little fast, and that really liking both of them was maybe a little bit on the weird side… but his life was weird, right? He’d been bitten by a radioactive spider, could stick to walls, and owned a suit that could take him into space. It didn’t get much weirder than that, right?

He didn’t know anyone who was specifically in a throuple, but most of the Avengers were polyamorous. Even Captain Rogers and Bucky, who - if you asked either of them - would tell you they’d been married since the thirties, had no problem bringing a third (or more if some of the rumors were true) into the bedroom. He knew Tony was with Pepper, but also Dr. Strange, and that Dr. Banner often accompanied Thor to New Asgard, and returned both relaxed and bruised. As far as he was aware, the only Avengers in a two-person, exclusive relationship were Carol and Maria.

And as for moving fast… Pete lived by the theory that he could die any day. He should have died multiple times. Hell, he should have died earlier that week; probably would have if Wade hadn’t stumbled by. He was out there, putting himself in danger, on the regular. He deserved all the nice things he could get while he could get them. So yeah, maybe he’d only really met Matt and Wade a few days ago, but they’d spent that time learning each other’s life stories inside and out and he felt like he knew them better than he knew some of the Avengers.

Definitely better than he knew Natasha, that was for sure. 

The thing about Pete, when he thought about it, was that he had always been an outsider. He’d been too smart for his own good in high school, and skinny and awkward to boot. MJ had maybe been interested, but he’d come out to her well before anything could happen and the two of them had quickly become best friends. His senior year, he and Harry had made out and exchanged a few awkward hand-jobs in the back seat of Harry’s car, but then Harry’s dad had passed away and Harry had taken it really hard. Pete had always hoped they would become friends again someday, but that seemed unlikely now. 

He’d graduated from high school after three years and headed straight to college at a young seventeen. He’d lived at home with Aunt May until he’d turned 18, tried to live in the dorms for a year to be “normal,” and then moved into the tower. There’d been a few random hook-ups, a brief romance with his lab partner that fizzled as quickly as it started, a miserable disaster of a rendezvous with a girl named Gwen who had proved to him beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was 100% into dudes and dudes alone, and that was it. 

He’d saved the world, finished his bachelor's degree in three years, moved on to his masters, and never really thought about needing anything more than that. 

Until now. 

Being around Matt and Wade was like nothing he had ever experienced before. It was like a switch had been flipped in his brain. And in his dick. Part of it was that Matt was beautiful and Wade was hilarious and both of them were strong and kind and understood what it meant to live the life that all three of them lived. And he was sure part of it was how much they obviously both wanted him. But there was something more. Being around them - around both of them - made him feel whole in a way he’d never felt before. Like he could finally breathe. Like he could finally relax. Like he finally belonged. It didn’t matter that he was smart. It didn’t matter that he was nerdy. It didn’t matter that he was awkward and made bad puns when he was uncomfortable. They both liked him because of those things. They wanted it. They wanted all of it. They wanted him.

It was almost painfully perfect.

Matt had decreed that they weren’t having any sex until Pete had gotten the all-clear form Nurse Claire, and he’d gone along with it at the time. It was sweet, really. But then, well, then Wade had given Matt a hand-job while he watched, and damn it he was done waiting.

He planned to make them a nice dinner, get them just a little drunk, and then seduce their pants off. It could have worked. It shouldn’t have been a terrible plan. There were just two issues that he hadn’t taken into account. First, Pete had never really seduced anybody, so he wasn’t quite sure how to go about doing that. And second… he didn’t actually know how to cook.

_ Should have picked an easier recipe,  _ he thought for the 57th time while staring down at his laptop. He’d asked Clint to bring over a few of his things and to pick him up some ingredients, and Clint had happily obliged. Unfortunately, when he got there, Clint’s priority had turned out to be convincing Pete to meet Foggy. Pete had told him he’d think about it.

At the time, Pete had decided on Beef Bourguignon and a salad for Seduction-Dinner, because he remembered May raving about it after her first date with Happy and it felt like something he should be able to take on. He was Spider-Man, after all. How hard could a little soup be?

Hard, apparently. He’d already completely destroyed a package of bacon, he couldn’t get the onions to caramelize, and nothing he cut looked like what it looked like in the picture. How the fuck did one “brunoise” anyway? He was about ready to give up and order pizza when he felt Wade’s hand on his back.

“Hey there, Itsy Bitsy. Why so stressed?”

“It’s not going to be good.” He gestured at the onions blackening in the pan.

Wade frowned down at them. “No… it’s probably not. Ok,” he turned off the heat, tossed the pan into the sink, and pulled a heavy dutch oven out of a cabinet. “Let’s start over.”

Wade showed Pete how to slice the onions thin and how to caramelize them over super low heat. It took a lot longer than the recipe indicated but, while they cooked, Pete made the salad and Wade showed him how to chop and prepare the other ingredients needed for the stew. When it was time to put the cover on the stew and let it slowly braise in the oven, Pete was feeling fairly confident. 

“Look at you,” Wade said later, as Pete bent over to pull the pot out of the oven. “And by you, I specifically mean that tight little ass. You should cook all the time. We could get you an apron,” he closed the space between them, pinning Pete up against the counter, and whispered into his ear, “maybe something small and lacy to wear underneath...”

“Wade,” Matt said abruptly as he opened the door to the apartment. “Stop harassing Pete.” 

Wade didn’t back away. He nipped playfully at Pete’s ear. “You should see him, Darkness. He clearly likes it, and he blushes so pretty. Besides, spiders can have a little kink… as a treat.”

“Maybe.” Matt joined them in the kitchen. He hoisted himself up onto the counter, legs wide and dangling off the edge. A knowing smile tugged at the edges of his lips. “But Pete is recovering, Wade. He’s supposed to be taking it easy. You certainly wouldn’t be planning anything against the nurse’s orders, would you Pete?”

Pete blushed and ducked his head. He stepped away from Wade. 

“Come here, baby.” Matt’s voice was quiet but demanding and Pete obeyed, moving to stand between Matt’s legs. Matt’s fingertips were cool and gentle as they brushed over Pete’s forehead. “You’ve been on your feet for a while, haven’t you, sweetheart. How are you feeling?”

“M’fine,” Pete mumbled.

“Pete…”

Matt’s voice was firm but his fingers were soft, running through Pete’s hair. Pete wanted to curl into them, like a cat would. He had felt fine. He really, truly had. But now he felt his legs tremble as he allowed himself to relax into Matt’s touch. The dull throbbing in his head and the ache down his spine reminded him that - as much as he wanted to be, as much as his super-healing should have allowed him to be - he was not fully better.

“Tired…” he admitted.

“Yeah, you are. You did so much today, baby. It smells so good in here. Did you do this all for us?”

Pete nodded. One of Matt’s hands had moved from his hair to the back of his neck, stroking slowly up and down. The other was wrapped under Pete’s arms, supporting him as he leaned his head against Matt’s strong chest. 

“Why don’t you rest?” Without jostling Pete, Matt slid off of the counter. He wrapped his arms around Pete’s waist and helped him to the couch. 

“But dinner…” Pete protested.

“Is done,” Wade said from the kitchen. “We just needed to make some noodles, right? I can do that while Matt sets the table and you relax.”

“Wanted to impress you…” 

“And you did.” Matt cut him off. A hand cupped Pete’s jaw, and Matt leaned in to kiss him softly. “I’m impressed. I’m so impressed, baby. I couldn’t possibly be more impressed. Now you just lay here while we finish up. I’ll get you when it’s time to eat.”

Pete settled deeper into the couch, closing his eyes, and Matt pulled the comfortable red and white checked blanket over him. As he started to drift, Pete heard Matt and Wade begin to move about the kitchen.

“He was fine,” Wade said quietly. “Why’d you do that?”

“He was tired,” Matt replied. There was a pause and then, “I want it as bad as you do. You know I do. But when it’s time, I don’t want to have to hold back because I’m worried we’re going to hurt him. I want to be able to give him everything.”

**Day 5:**

Wade stood in the bathroom, a small, white, plastic container plugged into one of the wall outlets. The shower was on, water turned up as hot as possible, steam filling the small room. Wade stood, naked, staring-- 

_ [No.] _

No?

_ [You heard me, narrator lady. No. In fact, I'll take that a step further. Fuck No.] _

Ok… What are you saying “Fuck No” to, exactly?

_ [To this. To all of this.]  _ Wade gestured around the room wildly, seeming to imply that he was saying “Fuck No” to the bathroom itself.

_ [Oh, you can go and fuck right off with that.] _

Excuse me?

_ [You know I’m not gesturing at the bathroom.] _

Well why don’t you tell me what is happening, then. 

_ [All of this. Why are we doing a second montage chapter? Wasn’t one enough? It seems like one was enough to me, and I’m not going to have any part of a second one. We don’t need any more plot. We don’t need any more character development. It’s time to get to the fucking.] _

Is it now?

_ [Yup.] _

I suppose I can’t argue with that.

_ [You can’t?] _

How could I? You seem pretty determined. Your mind is made up. There doesn’t seem like there’s anything I could do or say to change it at this point.

_ [You’re right. There isn’t.] _

Ok, then.

_ [Ok.] _

Wade nodded his head with a sense of finality and returned to the small pot on the counter, lifting off the lid and stirring the contents with a thick, wooden…

_ [What the fuck?!?] _

What?

_ [I thought you said we were done with this! Why are you still narrating me?] _

I didn’t say that.

_ [You totally did. Check the transcripts. We both agreed that it was time to get to the fucking.] _

You said that, not me.

_ [BUT YOU AGREED!!!!!] _

I said that you seemed determined, and that it wouldn’t help to argue with you, so I wouldn’t.

_ [But… but… FUCKING!!!!] _

Well it wouldn’t make sense, would it? Matt isn’t going to do anything until Pete gets the ok from Claire. Plus he’s at work, and Pete is asleep. What would you have me do about all that?

_ [You’re the author. Figure out a way to fix it!] _

I can’t. Not in a way that makes sense with the rest of the narrative flow and keeps everyone acting in character. We’ve got two more days to fill, to create symmetry with the last chapter.

_ [So this one, and then one more?] _

Exactly. Two for Matt, two for Pete, and two for you. That way everything stays fair and even.

_[And then Chapter 10 has the fucking?]_

It does.

_ [Hmmm….] _

You can make this as easy or hard as you want, but it’s going to happen.

Wade seemed to consider that for a moment.

_ [You gave Matt a hand-job. That doesn’t seem very fair or even.] _

Well… I mean, he is my favorite.

_ [Your favorite!?!?! You shouldn’t be allowed to have a favorite! It’s like having a favorite child.] _

You’re not children. You’re grown-ass fictional characters. Plus, technically, you gave Matt the hand-job.

_ [I… wait… now you’re getting me all confused.] _

Want to just keep doing whatever you were doing, and I’ll describe it?

_ [Ugh. Fine. But know that this is all under protest and I’m not going to do anything interesting or that will forward your Lady Bullseye/Vanessa Fisk plot in any way.] _

I can live with that.

_ [And I want there to be fucking, soon.] _

Next chapter.

_ [Promise?] _

I promise.

_ [And you’ll crank up the rating from Mature to Explicit?] _

I will.

Wade paused, thinking.

_ [Ok, then. You’ve got yourself a deal.] _

Wade turned back to the bathroom counter, and stirred the viscous liquid in the pot again. He scooped out a large dollop with the flat wooden stick and spread it generously over his upper thigh. It was hot - borderline uncomfortably so, but he didn’t flinch. Quickly, he took a strip of thin, almost translucent white paper and pressed it into the wax. He smoothed the paper out, counted to five, braced himself, and then ripped it off.

_ Oh. That wasn’t so bad. _

In movies and TV shows, they made it look like waxing was the most painful thing ever, but really it wasn’t that much. Wade smiled to himself, relieved, and decided it was time to get serious. He wasn’t here to wax his LEGS after all.

Wade took another large scoop of the hot wax, and applied it to his balls.

_ OH FUCK! FUCKITY FUCKITY SHIT FUCK THAT’S HOT!!!! _

He squeezed his eyes shut, pushed the paper strip into the wax pulled it back… and screamed.

_ JESUS FUCKING CHRIST WHY WOULD ANYONE DO THIS?????? _

Wade took a deep breath and wiped the tears off of his face.  _ Ok,  _ he thought.  _ You can do this. Pain is beauty, right?  _ He let out three quick puffs of air, braced himself, and spread more wax over himself. 

_ FUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKK _

Wade thought about using candles in the bedroom. That was sexy as hell. Why was this not sexy as hell? A sob caught in his chest as he pulled the paper away again.

“Wade?” Matt’s voice called from the apartment, just as Wade was contemplating the application and then removal of boiling hot wax to his asshole. “Wade? What’s happening? Are you ok?”

“It’s nothing!” Wade called out quickly. “I’m fine. Don’t come in here!” he quickly added.

Matt laughed softly, an embarrassed noise more than anything else. “You know that doesn’t matter, right? I perceive you the same through the door as if it weren’t here.”

“Oh.”

_ [Try not to think about that the next time you’re taking a shit.] _

“Can I come in?”

Wade sighed. “Sure. Yeah, fine. Come in.” At least maybe this way Matt would help him. That could be sexy, right?

“Wade, sweetheart. What are you doing?” Matt asked as he opened the door. 

“Waxing.”

Matt smiled, and this time his breathy laugh sounded amused. “May I ask why?”

“Because… because that’s what you do?” Wade answered. “When you’re about to fuck somebody new, or get fucked by somebody new, or whatever, you make yourself presentable.” 

“That’s sweet, Wade. I really appreciate it. I do. And I’m sure Pete does too. But it’s not necessary.” Matt took the tongue depressor that Wade had tightly clenched in his hands and placed it carefully into the pot full of hot wax. He unplugged the pot from the wall.

“But you get waxed,” Wade challenged.

“I do.” Matt gently ran his hands up and down Wade’s arms. “But I have it professionally done. And I only do it because I like how it feels on me. I’m not doing it for anybody else, and I wouldn’t ask anyone else to do it for me if they didn’t want to. But Wade?”

“Yeah?”

“There’s a bigger issue here than whether or not you should get waxed just because someone else thinks you should.” Matt took a step closer and slowly kissed across Wade’s shoulder and down his pec, his tongue flicking out to lick Wade’s nipple. 

Wade groaned. “Oh? What’s that?”

“You don’t have any hair.”

_ [You’re the fucking worst, narrator lady. You know that, right?] _

I love you too, Wade.

**Day 6:**

Pete had woken up that morning feeling good. Surprisingly good. Much better than he had for the entire week. It was Thursday, and Wednesday had been bad. He’d overexerted himself on Tuesday, what with being on his feet making dinner all day, and Wednesday he’d paid the price in achy joints and a pounding head. He’d slept most of the day, exhausted, but also depressed that he’d set his recovery back. But today it was like a fog had lifted. He’d started out the day with a little light yoga - mostly because he was stiff, but also because he couldn’t help but notice how Wade’s eyes had darkened watching him move. He knew Matt was watching him too, in his own way, head cocked gently to the side, teeth worrying his lower lip. Then the three of them had eaten breakfast - Matt’s cooking was always impeccable, and Wade made the best coffee Pete had ever tasted - while Matt ran through his cases for the day. 

It bothered Pete a little the way Wade referred to Matt as Daddy, kissing him roughly and then slapping his ass as he headed out the door. It probably stemmed from his loss of not one but two father figures, but Pete just wasn’t fully comfortable with that kind of dynamic. It squicked him out just a little if he was being honest. But it seemed to be a joke between Matt and Wade, and Matt didn’t seem like he minded but it also didn’t seem like a thing he really wanted. Still, it was a court day so Matt had dressed up and, as Pete watched him leave in his dark suit and tie, glorious muscles hidden away under a pressed white shirt, he had to admit that he got it. He understood. He and Wade were both perfectly capable of taking care of themselves, and yet Matt was choosing to do it for them. To  _ provide  _ for them. He looked somehow, all at once, gentle and honest and powerful and confident and sexy as fuck. Pete was pretty sure he’d never be able to say the word - not like that anyway - but, if given the chance (and oh god did he hope he’d be given the chance), he’d gladly drop to his knees with the confidence that Matt would provide for him… in whatever ways he needed. 

The day had moved slowly. Pete’s instructors had sent him some extra reading and lessons to help him keep up while he was missing class - it didn’t hurt that he’d already been well ahead of the rest of his classmates - and he completed that. He and Wade had played some video games. Jessica, bored and drinking as usual, had challenged Wade to an arm wrestling match. After defeating him handedly, she’d moved on to Pete.

“Alright, kid.” Jessica cracked her neck and her knuckles. “Matt keeps talking you up. Let’s see how strong you really are.”

Pete sighed. “I’m supposed to be resting.” He hated this. It still happened at the tower sometimes, especially when everyone was drinking. They were all enhanced - they were all different - why was there this macho need to always be proving who was the strongest, who was the fastest, who was the smartest… he usually tried to sneak out, or find some other way to get out of it. Nobody wanted him kicking Captain America’s ass. That would just be embarrassing for him and anyone who had to watch it.

“What?” Jessica prodded. “Scared of losing to a girl?” She took a pull directly from Matt’s new bottle of whiskey. Pete noticed he’d at least bought the cheap stuff this time, and he made a mental note to ask Clint to pick him up a bottle of something nice that he could give Matt as a present.  _ Did Clint know good whiskey? Maybe not Clint, then. Tony? No, he’d buy something that Pete could never afford to pay him back for. Natasha? She’d know the good stuff but then he’d have to talk to her and that was always terrifying and… _

Jessica cleared her throat. 

_ Right. Feats of strength. Ok fine.  _ Pete rolled his eyes and walked around to the opposite side of the breakfast bar, facing Jessica, and put his elbow down on the counter, palm open. Wade walked up behind him and rubbed his shoulders.

“You got this, baby,” he said quietly, nipping at Pete’s ear as he spoke. “Tear her arm off for me.”

Pete turned towards Wade, face one of utter confusion, just as Jessica slipped her hand into his. “I’m not going to…”

Jessica slammed his arm to the counter.

“I wasn’t ready,” Pete whined, extracting his hand from Jessica’s grip. But, ok, she was strong. She was really, really strong.  _ Fuck.  _ He rubbed his shoulder and set up for another round. “Best two out of three?”

Jessica grinned at him.

This time he was ready, and when he felt the pressure of Jessica pushing on him, he pushed back, matching her strength. He wasn’t exerting himself yet; he just wanted to put on a good show - see how strong she really was.

Jessica laughed and Pete felt the pressure in his hand increase tenfold. Holy hell, she’d been holding back too. His hand dipped towards the counter, the change unexpected, and he shook slightly as he held it there. Slowly, still being careful to not go all out (he really didn’t want to hurt anyone), he pushed their arms back to upright and watched as a moment of surprise flashed across Jessica’s face, only to be immediately replaced by her usual cool, sardonic expression. He pushed a bit harder, tilting their arms in his favor, and Jessica pushed back. She raised an eyebrow as she increased the pressure again, and Pete nodded and matched it. Pete watched her face falter again, just for a second, and then,

“Oh, FUCK!” Jessica cried out.

Pete jumped, releasing the pressure in his arm, and Jessica slammed his hand to the table. “Hey!!”

Jessica shrugged. “That’s two,” she said with a smile. “Guess I win.” 

“Only because you cheated! Come on. One more.” 

“Sorry. All’s fair in love and arm-wrestling.” She walked away from the counter and plopped down on the couch, flipping through TV channels. 

It was a nice distraction while it lasted, but as soon as it was over Pete was back to feeling like he might vibrate out of his skin. He paced nervously while Wade and Jessica watched some documentary about cats. Occasionally he would start to settle, start to focus, start to relax, and then he’d catch Wade staring at him, or the older man would brush his hand across Pete’s arm as he refilled his coffee, and Pete’s nerves would spike again. 

Matt had started it that morning as he was leaving. He’d already been halfway out the door when he’d turned back, poking his head around the hallway wall and leaning up against it casually, as if he were absentmindedly giving a piece of information that didn’t mean anything. As if it wasn’t a big deal. 

_ “Don’t bother waiting for me for dinner. I’ll be late - probably around 9? But I’ll bring home dessert. Oh! And I talked to Claire yesterday. She’s free tonight and is going to swing by about the same time. Is that ok with you, Pete?” _

_ Was that ok with him? Was that ok? Fucking hell. He knew Matt and all his super senses could tell how hurt Pete was, so if he’d reached out to Claire that must mean that he thought Pete was all healed. Which meant… _

He let out a shaky breath and opened his eyes to see Wade and Jessica both staring at him expectantly. “Ummm, yes?”

“You want anything to eat?” Jessica repeated in a tone that made Pete wonder how many times she’d said it before. He stared at her blankly. 

“Matt just texted,” Wade clarified. “He’ll be home in about an hour with the good doctor. Super-Sulk here is going to steal some of our food before she gets kicked out, and is trying to make it look like she’s being considerate.”

Jessica shrugged but didn’t deny it. 

“Uh… no,” Pete stuttered. God, why was his voice so shaky? “But I think I might take a shower? I haven’t in a few days and, you know, if Claire’s going to be… I don’t want to be all sweaty or anything.”

Wade grinned. “Sure thing. Get all cleaned up. For  _ Claire. _ ” He emphasized the last word, and then winked at Pete who felt himself blush from head to toe. 

Pete showered as quickly as he could, trying to keep himself calm, trying to keep his hands off himself while still getting as clean as he possibly could. Still, despite using cold water and trying to think the most unsexy thoughts he could, he was still half hard by the time he was done. Which, considering a medical professional was about to look him over, was absolutely not ok. He paced in Matt’s small bedroom, trying to get his anxiety under control, feeling like he’d just done eight espresso shots. 

What should he wear? Oh god! That was another point he hadn’t even thought about. He should have planned for this. Should have gotten something special… but how could he have when he had been stuck in Matt’s apartment this whole time. That certainly wasn’t something he could ask Clint to pick up for him. In the end, he settled on a pair of black boxer briefs and some yoga pants that he knew showed off his ass but that he hoped weren’t too obvious. They were also the only clean pair of pants he had at the moment, so that helped make his decision too. He had no clean shirts, so he opted to put on one of Matt’s instead. It was soft and heather grey, and hung loosely on Pete’s frame. He did his best to push his hair out of his face without a mirror, then gave up when he heard the door to the apartment open. 

He paused, listening to the conversation in the living area. Jessica and Claire obviously knew each other which, of course they did. Pete wasn’t sure why he kept being surprised that New York’s street level vigilantes all knew each other. Of course they teamed up. They only hadn’t invited him to join them because he was an Avenger and…

A gentle tap on the door pulled Pete out of his thoughts. “You ok in there?” Matt’s voice called softly. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah.” Pete’s voice cracked. Jesus, could this get any more embarrassing? 

Matt opened the bedroom door without a sound, just enough that he could slip into the room, and then closed it just as quietly behind himself. He was at Pete’s side immediately, hand running down Pete’s arm and closing around his hand. His thumb rubbed gently at Pete’s wrist. “You feeling alright? Your heart is racing.”

Pete nodded. He could feel himself calming already and knew it was thanks to Matt’s thumb stroking a pressure point. “Just nervous I guess.”

“Nothing to be nervous about,” Matt said softly. He paused for just a moment. “You’re wearing my shirt.”

“Oh. I’m sorry,” Pete pulled his hand away from Matt and tugged at the offending garment. “I didn’t have anything clean and I thought…”

“Shhh…” Matt pushed back Pete’s hair and then took up both of his hands. “I wasn’t complaining. I like it.”

“Hopefully I can go do laundry tomorrow,” Pete offered. “Since Claire’s here.” As if that were the thing he most wanted Claire to give him the go-ahead on. 

Matt smirked. “Hopefully.” He placed a hand in the small of Pete’s back, and gently led him out to the living room, sitting him down on the couch. 

Claire was in a good mood, joking with Jessica, laughing at Wade’s jokes, and teasing Matt relentlessly as she worked, but Pete didn’t hear any of it. He was too busy focusing on keeping his heart rate calm, his breathing steady, his body relaxed. It felt like almost immediately that she was squeezing his shoulder. “You’re pretty amazing, Peter. If you’d been just some guy who came into the hospital, my professional opinion would have been that you wouldn’t make it through the night. And now here you are, less than a week later, looking like you’ve never been hurt in your entire life. It’s impressive.”

Pete looked down and shook his head. “Thanks.” It didn’t really feel like the right answer. 

“Show me out?”

It took Pete a moment to realize she was still talking to him. “Uh… yeah,” he said awkwardly, rising to follow her. 

When they reached the door, Claire stopped and turned to face him. “You ok?”

Pete looked at her, confused. “You just said I was…”

“No.” Claire jerked her head down the hallway towards Matt and Wade. “I mean are you ok with them? They both look like they’re waiting for me to leave so they can eat you alive.”

Pete blushed. “Yeah. I’m fine. Good even…”

The look in Claire’s eyes was fond. “Normally, I think, this is the point when I would tell you to be careful. This is where I would say that, I don’t know anything about Deadpool, but I know Matt Murdock well, and I know that he is, at best, unreliable and, at worst, detached and inaccessible.” She sighed softly. “And yet, I look at the three of you together, and it’s different than anything I’ve ever seen with him - and I’ve seen a lot. It feels like… like he’s finally found his people. It makes me happy and, if I’m being honest, a little bit jealous.”

Pete blushed even harder. “You know he can hear you, right?

Claire smiled and gave Pete a small hug. “Yeah. I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! Your comments keep me writing!! Chapter 10 is just about done, although I probably won't post until next Friday, just to stay on schedule. If I had planned ahead better, maybe I would have tried to post Chapter 10 today for Valentine's Day... although it isn't very romantic. Anyway, school is starting to pick up, and I've reached the point where I don't have a lot of extra chapters done, so I want to make sure that I don't leave you with any big gaps between postings. I also have a related/inspired work that I should be posting in the next day or two... a birthday present for my lovely beta/mentor HaniTrash, which she requested in the comments for chapter 8... so keep an eye out for that. Let's just say, I think Wade will enjoy it, even if he isn't in it.


	10. Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note the change in rating...
> 
> And just a reminder that Pete is 20 here!!!!!

Matt had him pinned against the door the moment it was shut. He drew his nose along the back of Pete’s neck, breathing in deeply, then pulled back just enough to spin Pete around and push him back up against the door. His hands went to Pete’s hips, fingers pushing up under the loose t-shirt, hands moving up over the smooth, broad skin of Pete’s back. Matt kissed a line up Pete’s strong jaw, the rough stubble of his omnipresent five o’clock shadow making Pete’s own skin feel raw and hot.

“Tell me you want this,” Matt whispered into his ear. 

Pete nodded.

“I need you to say it, baby. Please. I gotta hear the words. Tell me you want this.”

“Want it,” Pete managed to choke out. “Want you. Want him. Want all of it. Don’t want to have to wait anymore. Please. Please let me have it.”

Matt growled, practically ripping Pete’s shirt off. His hands came to rest across Pete’s chest and he paused for a moment, breathing deeply. 

Wade moved from where he’d been at the end of the hallway until he was standing directly behind Matt. He wrapped his arms around Matt’s arms and splayed his hands over Matt’s hands, and Pete could feel the difference in their fingertips as all twenty fingers brushed over his pecs. “Let us take care of you,” Wade said quietly. 

Pete stared at both of them, wide eyed, his mouth unable to form words.

“Even though you don’t need it anymore,” Matt continued. “Let us take care of you, for one more night. Can we do that? Please?”

“Yes,” Pete managed to gasp out.

The hands on his chest released him, and Pete felt himself surging forward, desperate to get the contact back. Matt took one of Pete’s hands in his own, and gently led him into the bedroom. “I have wanted this,” Matt said, hands moving to Pete’s waist, pushing down his pants and boxers in one motion, “since the moment you stepped into my office.” Matt pressed his nose into the soft skin of Pete’s neck and took a long breath. “You smell so fucking good. It’s like a drug. It’s all I can think about.” 

Pete stepped out of the pile of clothing that pooled at his feet. He heard the rustle of blankets and turned to see Wade settling in against the brick wall at the head of the bed - shirtless, but still wearing his soft grey sweatpants. Wade spread his legs wide and patted the space between them, beckoning. “Come on up here, baby. Let me hold you.” 

He did as he was told, hesitant to leave Matt’s embrace but confident that the two older men had a plan. He climbed onto the bed and crawled up to Wade, silk sheets slippery on his hands and knees. He leaned back against Wade’s chest and sighed contentedly as the man began to nibble on his ear.

Wade reached down and carefully wrapped his hands around Pete’s wrists. He took his feet and placed them over Pete’s calves, effectively holding Pete’s arms and legs in place. Pete could break the hold if he wanted - he was much stronger than the other two combined - but at the moment he saw no point in struggling. He watched as Matt peeled off his own shirt, exposing faint bruises across the front of his wide shoulders and over his ribcage, and old scars across his chest.

Matt sat down on the side of the bed and placed his hand back on Pete’s chest. It was warm. His palms were smooth and his fingertips were strong. Pete’s eyes traced a thin line between the third and fourth knuckles, where the skin had split and hadn’t quite finished healing yet.

When Matt spoke, his voice was calm and detached. “I’m going to touch you now. Is that ok?”

Pete let out a shaky breath. “Yeah, Matt. That’s ok.”

Matt smiled, and bit his lower lip, and suddenly memories of what seemed like ages ago came rushing back to Pete - being in the Avengers common room, hearing the discussions of Matt’s  _ magic fingers  _ that had sounded so strange in the moment. 

It suddenly all made sense.

Pete was gone almost immediately, his eyes rolling back into his head, whimpers and groans escaping his lips, as Matt began mapping out his body with his hands. Matt started with his head and face, then moved to his neck and shoulders, arms, hands, torso… fingertips lightly brushing across every inch, pressing into the dips and curves, leaving fiery trails in their wake and by the time Matt was running his fingers down Pete’s abs, Pete was in tears. It was too much. He was thankful that Wade was holding him open, keeping from curling in on himself, keeping him from hiding himself from the gentle touches that lavished across every inch of his skin, never exactly where he needed them to be, never for quite long enough for him to feel relief. The moment that Matt brought his hands from Pete’s hips to the inside of Pete’s thighs was the moment Pete started begging. He wasn’t even sure what he was saying, wasn’t sure what he wanted. All he knew was that he needed more, needed Matt to finish what he’d started, needed relief. Release. 

“Please. Please, Matt. Please, I’m dying. Need it. Need you to touch me. Please touch me Matt. Please. I can’t take it anymore.”

Matt chuckled and the noise of it cut Pete to the bone. The man sounded completely unconcerned. Completely unaffected. When he spoke, his voice was light and casual. “I am touching you, baby. What have I been doing this whole time if not touching you?”

Pete sobbed. “Please. It’s too much. I need you to fuck me, please.” 

Matt ran two fingers from Pete’s ankle all the way up to the inside of his thigh, then stopped. Pete tried to squirm, to pull away, to shift his body so that those fingers would brush against his cock, but Wade held him firm. “It’s your turn,” Matt said to Wade, factually, as if he were in the courtroom turning over a witness for cross examination. “I think he’s ready for you.”

“No!” Pete whined, loud and high. “Please don’t stop. I need you to touch me. Please, Matt. Please.”

“Shhh…” Matt placed a finger across Pete’s lips, and Pete tried to lick up into it, to suck it into his mouth, but Matt moved away too quickly. “Don’t say things like that. You’ll hurt his feelings. And believe me, you want what he’s offering.” Matt moved until he was sitting on the bed next to Wade, cross-legged with his back leaning against the wall. He kissed Wade, hard and demanding, then turned back to Pete. “Come here please,” he patted his lap gently. “On your stomach this time.”

Pete felt Wade release him. He pushed up on shaky arms and awkwardly maneuvered himself until he was laying face down in Matt’s lap. His cock was hard and leaking, and he couldn’t help but rut against the smooth sheets as he mouthed at Matt’s sweatpants.    
  
“Stop that,” Matt admonished as he swatted at Pete’s shoulder.

Pete’s hips gave one jerk, unbidden, before he stilled, gasping for breath. 

“We’re taking care of you,” Matt reminded him. “It’s rude to take more than what’s being offered.”

“I can’t.” Pete felt like he might start crying again. “It’s too much,” he pleaded.

“What’s your safeword?” Matt asked.

“Jersey,” Pete said quietly. They’d all agreed on it the night before.

“You using it?” 

Pete shook his head, trying to take deep, calming breaths. He lowered his head back into Matt’s lap, surrendering. 

“You can hold on to me if you want,” Matt suggested. “To my legs.”

Pete placed his hands on Matt’s black-clad thighs, and squeezed once, weakly.

“Are you ready?”

Pete nodded, wondering at the same time how he could possibly know if he was ready when he didn’t know what he was supposed to be ready for. 

It wasn’t until Pete felt Wade’s breath ghost across the base of his spine that he realized what was coming. “NOOO!” he wailed as Wade spread his cheeks, and he felt the first pass of Wade’s tongue across his tight ring of muscle. “Oh god. Oh shit. Oh shit, Wade! Matt!… Please!”

He didn’t know what he was begging for. He didn’t want Wade to stop. He knew he couldn’t take any more. Wade was relentless, tongue tugging at his rim, hot and wet and ruthless. It was too much. He could feel the heat pooling in his stomach, and when he felt Wade push the tip of a lubed finger in alongside his tongue, Pete knew he was quickly approaching the point of no return.

“Please,” he cried out. “Please! I can’t... I’m going to come!”

Wade stopped and lifted his head, looking to Matt. 

Matt shrugged nonchalantly. “I think he can take just a bit more.” He sounded bored, and Pete didn’t know why that was affecting him the way it was. His dick twitched and drooled precome as Pete held on tighter to Matt’s thighs, trying to steady himself.

Wade bit down on Pete’s left cheek, then planted his lips over Pete’s hole and kissed him. The finger that had been toying at his rim pressed in, and Pete couldn’t hold back. A tremor ran through his entire body and he came, hard, sobbing both of their names.

Matt hummed, stroking his hand up and down Pete’s spine. “Guess I was wrong.”

“I guess you were,” Wade said, lifting himself up onto one elbow, finger still working gently in and out of Pete’s ass. It was too much. It was gloriously too much. “Now what?”

“He’s young,” Matt said flippantly. “He’ll get over it.”

Pete’s eyes went wide with the realization that they’d planned this. That they weren’t done. That they were just getting started. 

Matt continued rubbing Pete’s back gently as Wade’s finger pulled out, only to be replaced by two. When those fingers brushed up against his prostate, Pete shuttered and his dick twitched, too overstimulated to do much more. He was well past words, tears falling freely from his eyes. He knew his face must be red and blotchy, and he tried to hide it in Matt’s lap.

“It’s ok,” Matt soothed, one hand soft across on Pete’s back, the other combing through his hair. “Shhh… you’re ok.” He turned to Wade, and all the comfort that his voice had just held disappeared in four simple words: “Again. Just like that.”

Pete sobbed again, a high and broken noise, and he shook as Wade stroked his fingers, again and again, over the small bundle of nerves inside of him. Pete struggled to break free but, as strong as he was, Matt’s soft, insistent hand between his shoulder blades held him easily in place. 

“He feels so good,” Wade said, working a third finger in next to the first two. “So tight. You’re gonna love it.”

“I know I am.” Matt took the hand from Pete’s back and cupped his chin with it. “We’re going to need you to help us now, baby, just a little. Do you think you can do that?”

Pete arched his neck to look up at Matt. The man was breathtakingly beautiful, dark hair and dark stubble over pale skin. His hazel eyes were vacant, but the skin around them crinkled pleasantly when Matt smiled. 

“Can you hold yourself up?” Matt asked.

Pete nodded, wanting it to be true more than believing it. He pushed up, slowly and shakily, onto his hands and knees. 

“You’re doing so good, sweetheart. So perfect for us. Everything we could have wanted and more.” Matt leaned forward and kissed him, nothing like the kisses they had shared before. Where those had been sweet and needy, this was demanding. Violent. Teeth and tongue and pressure. Pete surrendered to it. There was nothing else he could do. 

Pete felt his knees being pushed wide, felt movement beneath him as Wade arranged his broad shoulders beneath Pete’s small frame. Pete’s eyes snapped open, his breath catching in his chest, when Wade planted a small kiss on the tip of his half hard cock. He shook his head wildly. “I can’t…”

Matt silenced him with another kiss. “You can,” he murmured back, lips brushing against Pete’s as he spoke. “You will.” And then he was pulling away, moving behind Pete. 

Pete heard the rip of foil, the snap of the lube bottle being opened. He felt Wade’s hands on his hips, supporting him from below, squeezing just tightly enough for Pete’s breath to catch in his throat. Matt moved up behind him and the front of Matt’s thighs brushed up against the backs of his own. Matt’s hands ran down Pete’s sides, pausing briefly over Wade’s hands, and then moved down the backs of Pete’s legs. He paused, hands resting gently on the inside of Pete’s thighs. 

Without warning, Matt gave a sharp push outwards with his palms, knocking Pete’s legs out from underneath him. Pete gasped and scrambled to brace himself with his arms, before realizing that Wade’s hands still held him firmly, keeping him from falling. Behind him, he felt Matt’s body move in even closer, his knees now occupying the space where Pete’s had previously been.

“That’s it,” Matt muttered, one hand now brushing up and down Pete’s side, over his ribs. “Just give in. Let us take care of it. We’ve got you.”

Matt was warm against his back, and Pete let out a soft “oh” when he felt Matt’s cock press up against his hole. He moved slowly, so slowly, stopping to breathe and to press kisses into Pete’s spine. “You feel so good,” Matt gasped into Pete’s back. “So tight. So perfect around me, baby. Can’t believe I get to have this. Can’t believe you’re giving this to me.”

Pete whimpered and dropped down from his hands to his elbows as he felt Matt bottom out. 

“Yeah. Yeah it’s ok sweetheart. Just relax. We’ve got you.” Wade’s hands tightened on Pete’s hips as he spoke. “You gotta move now, Darkness. We’re all waiting on you.”

“Fucking hell,” Matt gasped. “Just give me a minute, ok? Jesus he’s so tight.” He pulled out slowly, then pushed back in. 

“Oh!” Pete shouted out as Matt pushed him forward, causing the tip of his now rock hard dick to dip into Wade’s waiting mouth. 

Wade drew his lips closed and held tightly to Pete’s hips, holding him in place as Matt pulled back again, almost all the way out, head tugging at Pete’s rim, before driving back in, pushing him deeper into Wade’s mouth. Wade hummed, running his tongue around the head of Pete’s cock, as Matt pulled out and pushed back in again, starting to build a rhythm. 

Pete went limp between them, allowing Matt and Wade to manhandle his body, his weight fully supported by Wade’s strong arms, his own arms limp on the bed, entire body swaying with the force of Matt fucking into him, each thrust driving him into Wade’s mouth. He was beyond crying. His body felt like it was on fire, and also at the same time like it belonged to someone else. Like he was outside of it, just watching himself be worshiped by the two larger men.

And worship was what it felt like. Matt was moving slowly but insistently, rocking the three of them with his movements. He had one hand on the mattress next to Pete’s head, supporting himself, and the other was softly running across Pete’s entire body, sometimes stroking his back and sides gently, sometimes holding him tight to Matt’s chest, as if he were afraid Pete might squirm out from between the two of them and leave. He was kissing along Pete’s spine and whispering words of praise into his skin. Beneath him, Wade was holding his weight easily, slurping and sucking and licking along his cock, humming his approval.

“You’re so perfect,” Matt whispered. “So fucking beautiful and perfect. Just let us have it, baby. Give us all of it. All of you.” Matt’s arm wrapped around Pete’s chest and his hand pinched Pete’s nipple and that was all it took. Pete was coming again, and Wade’s lips clamped down tight around him, swallowing down every drop. Matt’s hips stuttered as Pete fluttered and clamped down around him, and then Pete felt him coming too, thrusting forward hard, forcing the last of Pete’s own release directly down Wade’s throat. 

They stayed like that for a moment, Matt’s body limp over Pete’s back, Pete lying on Wade’s face, until Pete felt Wade let go of his hip. He heard Wade’s hand slap against Matt’s ass, followed by a muffled grunt of protest. 

Matt laughed. “Yeah, yeah, I’m moving.” He carefully lifted himself up, an arm around Pete helping him off Wade as well. Pete whined and Matt hissed as Matt slipped out of him, and then Pete heard him fumble with the condom as he tied it off and tossed it into a garbage can sitting next to the bed. 

“Come here.” He guided Pete to lay his head on a pillow, stretching his body out diagonally across the bed. “Now you,” he said to Wade, arranging them so that Wade had his head resting on Pete’s chest. “Keep your hands on him,” he told Pete.

Pete wrapped an arm around Wade’s chest, stroking his thumb over Wade’s sternum, too blissed out to do much more. 

“Good,” Matt murmured, kissing Pete first and then Wade. “Both of you are so fucking good.” He kissed down the side of Wade’s face and neck, planting a kiss on the back of Pete’s hand before moving down Wade’s torso and settling between his legs. His hands splayed up over Wade’s chest and Pete did his best to hold Wade still, knowing now first hand how it felt to be touched like that. 

Wade groaned as Matt swallowed him down, his back arching up away from the bed despite Pete holding him tight. Pete brought his free hand to Matt’s head, stroking his hair and Matt hummed his approval as Pete tightened then relaxed his fingers. Matt lifted his head, eyes pointing towards Pete but never quite locking onto his face. “Do it,” he said softly. “Please."

Pete nodded, and Matt dropped back to wrap his lips around Wade’s cock. Pete fisted his hand into Matt’s hair and, slowly at first, then faster, began to guide his movements. Up and down, Pete pushed and pulled Matt’s head, sliding his mouth over Wade’s shaft, watching in awe as it disappeared between Matt’s red lips, then reappeared, wet and shiny, only to disappear again.

“Oh fuck!” Wade exclaimed. “Yes! Fuck!” Wades hips shot up and Pete held Matt’s head down hard as Wade shook, a litany of “fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck” pouring from his mouth. 

When Wade finally stilled, Pete released Matt’s head and Matt pulled off quickly - overwhelmed with a fit of violent coughing. “I’m sorry,” Pete said, reaching for him. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

“No,” Matt interrupted, voice full of gravel. “No, Pete, you were perfect. That was perfect.”

“Fucking perfect,” Wade echoed. “Hashtag spideydevilpool, hashtag dead.”

“You’re so fucking weird,” Matt said, snuggling down between the two of them, feet dangling off the end of the bed.

“You know you love it, Darkness.”   
  
Matt didn’t answer. Instead, he hummed softly as he tucked his nose into Pete’s belly button, pulled Wade’s arm over his shoulder, and closed his eyes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am consistently nervous about writing the smut, so please drop a line and let me know if I did ok THANKS!!!!!!


	11. Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, I'm sorry. You said you DIDN'T want another chapter of filth? I misunderstood. 
> 
> I've also updated the tags and added a few things that these boys seem to be into. There is definitely an emphasis on the "light" in "light BDSM" and "light bondage" but I wanted to be sure everyone was aware. Nobody is interested in getting tied down and whipped here... except, as I write that, Wade is whispering in my ear that he is DEFINITELY interested in that, and he suspects Matt might be too. Anyway... Who even knows. I will make sure the tags stay updated is my point.

Wade’s eyes fluttered slightly, and he groaned as he felt Matt move beside him. He wasn’t quite sure what time it was, but he did know - beyond a shadow of a doubt - that it was way-too-fucking-early. He grunted and rolled over onto his side.

_ [Hey Dumbass.] _

_ Shut your fucking face hole. I’m sleeping. _

_ [Ok, sure. Fine. But you’re in charge.] _

_ What? _

_ [The narration. You’re in charge of the narration. It’s from your point of view again.] _

_ Who fucking cares? _

_ [I do. You should!] _

_ Listen, I worked hard last night. I deserve to rest. If I’m in charge, then I say it’s still sleepy time. _

_ [But you can do whatever you want!] _

_ I can? _

No. Wait. What? Absolutely not. You can’t do whatever you want!!

_ Whatever I want…? _

_ [Whatever you want!!!!!] _

Now hold on just one second…

Wade’s hand snapped out and grabbed Matt’s arm, fingers digging into his bicep, and pulled the dark-haired man down into his chest. “Where do you think you’re going?” he growled, then pinched Matt hard on his ass. 

“I told you last night.” Matt snuggled into Wade’s arms, pressing his chest up against Wade’s. “I’ve got to go to work. We’re in court first thing this morning.”

Wade wrapped a strong arm around Matt’s waist and Matt let out a small squeak as Wade flipped them over. “You’ve got time.” He pressed a line of kisses down Matt’s neck, brushed his lips across first one nipple and then the other, and then continued kissing slowly down Matt’s abs. 

Next to them, Pete stirred slightly, muttered something incoherent, and then fell back to sleep.

“Wade.” Matt’s voice was practically a whimper by the time Wade’s tongue found the small divot at his hip bone. “I can’t be late.”

“I’ll be fast.” Wade hummed as he drew his lips across Matt’s shaft, flicking his tongue across the tip. Then he dropped lower, kissing down Matt’s thighs. He paused, lips hovering over a dark, oval shaped bruise. He picked up Matt’s leg and turned it, inspecting four smaller bruises set towards the back of his leg. Wade checked the other leg, and smiled to himself when he found a matching set. “What’s this?” Wade asked, digging a thumb into one of the bruises. 

Matt groaned and his dick twitched when Wade pressed down again on the sensitive area. 

“Itsy Bitsy give you these?” Wade asked, lining all ten of his fingers up on what were clearly finger-prints pushed into Matt’s skin. He pushed again, and the noise that escaped Matt’s lips was nothing short of obscene as he arched up to meet Wade’s touch. 

“God, Darkness. You like that, huh? Like it to hurt a little?”

Pete rolled over and looked at them groggily. “What time is it? What’s happening? Why are you two awake?”

“Doesn’t matter what time it is, because I’m in charge of the narration. No matter what we do right now, Matty here will hurry through a shower and get to the courthouse just in the nick of time.”

“You’re in charge of… what?” Pete rubbed at his eyes and blinked them sleepily. “Matt, what is he… Oh my god, Matt. Your legs. Did I...? I wasn’t thinking. I’m so sorry…”

“Pete, no. It’s ok…” Matt started before Wade interrupted him, digging his fingers even harder into Matt’s thighs. Matt groaned.

“It’s ok, Petey. Look. He likes it.” Wade squeezed again while leaning forward and placing a small bite mark over Matt’s hip-bone. He kissed the offended area, before repeating the action - a bite followed by a kiss - over each bruise mark on both of Matt’s thighs.

“Fuck, Wade. Please.” Matt begged.

Wade smiled. “Please what?” he asked. “Please stop? Or please fuck you.” He leaned forward and licked up the small pool of precome that had gathered on Matt’s stomach.

“Fuck me, Wade.” Matt gasped. “Now. Shit.”

He grinned at Pete. “See. I told you he liked it. Now tell me,” he returned his attention to Matt, alternating kisses and bites along the man’s abs. “What would you like? Do you want me to work you open nice and slow, with my fingers and my mouth, like I did for Petey? Or do you want me to take you fast and leave you squirming in your hard, wooden, courtroom chair all day?”

Matt gasped as Wade licked him from root to tip, swirling his tongue around Matt’s head like it were a lollipop. “Now. Right now!” Matt’s head rolled back and he cursed again.

Wade smirked. “Yeah, I know daddy. You’re as impatient as a SamBuck shipper waiting for FaTWS.”

“Damn it, Wade.” Matt grabbed Wade’s head and pulled it up to his own, crushing their lips together. “Would you please set your internal monologue back to  _ internal  _ for five minutes and fuck me?”

“Only five minutes? Shit, Darkness. You hurt my feelings! Petey, baby. Hand me the lube, please.” Wade pressed one thumb against Matt’s hole as he held out his other hand to accept the lube from Pete. “So tight, daddy.” Wade kissed back down Matt’s neck and chest, licking around his thumb at the tight muscle. “You gonna let me in there? Gonna relax for me?”

He felt Matt clench up once, then relax around him as he pushed one finger in up to the knuckle. Matt whimpered.

_ [Hey lover-boy. Check out the kid.] _

Wade’s eyes snapped from Matt’s ass to Pete’s face. He was pink and flushed, propped up on his elbows and craning his neck to try and see what Wade was doing. 

“Webs, baby. You wanna come down here and take a better look?”

Pete’s blush spread and darkened.

“Awww, it’s ok, schnookums. You don’t need to be embarrassed. Com’ere. Lemme show you. He’s so pretty like this.” Wade patted the bed beside him. “Roll over, Darkness,” he said to Matt, who did as he was told - pushing up onto his hands and knees. Wade pushed back into him, two fingers this time, and grinned as Matt’s arms trembled. “You ever fuck anybody before?” 

Pete shook his head no, confirming what Wade already suspected.

“That’s a real pity, Petey, but it doesn’t surprise me at all. Most people are gonna take one look at your sweet little body and think they’ve got it all figured out. But I see you, baby.” Wade leaned forward and kissed Pete gently, while simultaneously forcing a third finger deep into Matt without warning. Matt yelled out and dropped down to his elbows. “You’re so strong. Bet you’d fuck me real good. You wanna watch me fuck him, see how it’s done, and then practice on me after he leaves for work?” 

Pete’s eyes went wide and he nodded quickly in the affirmative.

“Well normally,” Wade smiled gently at Pete while viciously twisting his fingers inside of Matt's hole, “you’d take your time with this. Work him open all nice and gentle like I did for you last night. But Matty here, he’s what we refer to in the biz as A Giant Fucking Masochist, which means he likes it to hurt. Don’t you daddy?“ Wade pulled his fingers out of Matt and then thrust them back in, fast and hard, causing Matt to scream and bury his head in his silk sheets.

“Please, Wade. Please. Fuck. I’m ready. I’m so fucking ready,” his voice came out muffled from the blankets.

Wade grinned. “See what I mean?” He sat back on his heels and began to talk casually, like he wasn’t rolling on a condom with one hand while ruthlessly attacking Matt’s prostate with the other. “You know what we should do? We should all go get tested together. Like a big group date or something.” He leaned forward and spoke into Matt’s ear, but loud enough that Pete could still clearly hear him. “I’d love to fill you and plug you up. Send you off to court with some of me still inside of you.” He sat back again, lined himself up with Matt’s hole. “By which I mean my come, of course. I don’t mean like a severed finger or something. That would be weird even for me.”

“Stop. Fucking. Talking.” Matt growled. 

Wade pulled his fingers out and then pushed into Matt hard, seating himself fully in just one thrust. He tightened his grip on Matt’s thighs, looking forward to seeing the imprint of his own fingerprints alongside Pete’s, pulled most of the way out, and then snapped his hips to bury himself in Matt’s ass again. 

“I mean, you probably know what you like, right twinkletoes?” Wade rolled and snapped his hips, hard and fast. Matt writhed underneath him, and Wade placed a large hand in the small of his back to hold him still. “Think about what you like, and there’s a good chance that’s what the other guy likes too. Some things are obvious, you know? Like, you gotta take it slow at first. It gives your partner time to adjust, and also helps you not go off too soon. It’s so tight and slick.” As if to prove his point, Wade pulled all the way out of Matt, and then slammed back in. 

Matt arched his back and bit down on a pillow, sweat starting to bead on his back.

“You want to really pay attention to your partner. Sure, some people like to top from the bottom, but generally speaking it’s a pretty vulnerable position, and you want to make sure they know they’re important to you.” 

Matt cursed as Wade squeezed down on his hip hard, holding him in place, ruthlessly fucking into the smooth warmth of his body. 

“The most important thing is listening to what they’re trying to tell you; making it about them and not just about you.”

“Fuck!” Matt cried out when Wade joined a particularly brutal thrust with a well timed slap at his haunches. “I’m so close. Wade. Please!”

“Shut your face hole, Matty.” Wade slapped Matt again. “Can’t you see I’m talking to Petey here?”

“Can’t  _ see  _ anything. Fuck!” Matt cried out as Wade tightened his grip on Matt’s hips and chased his own pleasure. 

“Sometimes,” Wade continued his lecture to Pete, who was watching the scene unfold with awe and mild confusion, “you get a sweet baby who will purr and mewl on your cock, and you just want to give them everything. And sometimes…” Matt pushed back onto his hands, reaching one back in an attempt to touch himself, and Wade slapped it away. “...you get a greedy daddy who needs to learn to take what he’s given.” 

“Shit.” Matt let his arms give out again, falling face first into the bed, his body going limp and pliant under Wade’s. 

“There it is,” Wade murmured. He smiled at Pete. “If you’ll excuse me, I do have to take care of something.”

Wade leaned forward, draping his body over Matt’s. “There you go. I got you. You can let go now.” He licked down Matt’s neck, salty with sweat, then pressed his teeth into Matt’s shoulder. “Shoulda done this to you the first night I met you; makin’ me all unprofessional. How was I supposed to kill you when you were decked out like a dominatrix on Valentine’s Day?”

Wade rolled his hips, smooth and languid, then snapped them in a way that made Matt babble incoherently into the mattress.

“What’s that, Darkness? You’re going to have to speak up. Not all of us have your magic ears.”

Matt turned his head to the side and -  _ oh  _ \- there were tears clinging to his eyelashes and wasn’t that just a prettier sight than anything Wade deserved in life. “Please, Wade. Please may I come?”

“Oh, daddy,” Wade sighed, reaching down and grasping Matt firmly. “How could I say no to that?” Wade nosed softly at the side of Matt’s throat, sweet and comforting and in direct contrast to the hard assault of his hand and hips. He brushed his lips across Matt’s spine and felt the moment when Matt came fully apart beneath him, body trembling and tensing. Wade continued to drive into him, chasing his release, before filling the condom in hot, hard pulses. “Matty,” he gasped, barely louder than a breath. 

Matt reached a hand up behind himself and stroked Wade’s head gently. “I know,” he replied quietly, then groaned as Wade pulled out of him. Wade was already starting to move away when Matt rolled over and grabbed his hand. “Hey.” 

Wade froze, heart pounding in his throat, whispers of  _ more than you deserve  _ rattling around in his head. 

Matt lifted the hand to his mouth and kissed Wade gently on the inside of his wrist. “I’m glad you didn’t kill me, too.”

Wade laughed, a little nervous, a little uncomfortable, breaking the tension, and then reversed their grip so it was his hand clasped around Matt’s wrist. He pulled Matt up to sitting. “Go get your ass into the shower and then to work. Foggy doesn’t deserve your shit!”

“My shit?!?” Matt smiled brightly, and placed his hand over his chest as if he were offended. “My shit? I’ll just tell him I was ravished by a barbarian who simply could not contain his lust for me!” 

“Whatever you say, counselor,” Wade said, rolling a discarded t-shirt like a towel and flicking it at Matt’s ass as he moved away from the bed. It made contact with a sharp  _ thwick _ , and Matt yelped as a red welt joined the already numerous bruises gracing the lower half of his body. 

Matt turned around, hands on his hips and a disapproving glare on his face. Wade whipped the shirt out again, only this time Matt caught it and pulled - yanking Wade up to his feet and into his arms. Matt caught Wade’s chin between his thumb and forefinger and kissed him gently. “I know you can’t be serious, and I would never ask you to be, but believe me that I am when I say that there’s nobody I would rather be here with right now.”

Wade hummed and returned the kiss.

_ This is a romantic moment. _

_ [Say something fucking romantic.] _

_ Any ideas? _

_ [Fuck me. You’re supposed to be the smart one.] _

_ OH SHIT I AM? _

“You’ve got come leaking out of you.”

_ [That could have gone better.] _

_ Clearly. _

Matt laughed, shaking his head. “Ok, ok. I get it. You had your way with me and now you want me gone so you can get it from Pete. I see how I rate.” Matt batted his eyelashes and gave Pete a crooked half smile. “You remember this, ok? Give it to him good for me. Defend my honor. I’ll be in the shower if you need me.”

Matt turned and began to walk out the bedroom door. Wade wanted to say something - wanted to stop him - but he knew he didn’t have the right words and…

It was the thunk of Matt’s hand hitting the wall that grabbed his attention, but his head jerked in the opposite direction, eyes locked on Pete who was now kneeling up on the bed, grinning, arm held out in front of him, palm up, middle and ring finger tucked in toward his wrist. Wade turned, slowly, wide eyed, back to Matt and - yup - there was a mass of white, stringy goo affixing his hand firmly to the wall. 

“Pete?” Matt asked cautiously. “Pete, baby. I really do have to go to work.”

“Yeah, I know.” Pete stood up, biting his lower lip, and walked over to them. Wade could see now that the grin was fading, being replaced by a blush that stretched from Pete’s ears to his chest. “It’s just… I mean, you were just gonna go take a shower all by yourself? After what Wade said?”

“What did Wade say?” Matt asked, his voice dropping an octave.

Pete’s blush deepened. “About… about your situation?”

“And what situation would that be? Use your words, please.”

_ [Jesus fuck he’s good at this.] _

“Your… You have come leaking out of you?” Pete’s voice cracked, and Wade wondered if it would be possible for him to blush any harder without actually bursting into flames.

“And what should I do about that, baby? Other than go take a shower, which was what I had intended to do?”

“I…” Pete’s voice faltered. He turned to Wade, eyes wide, frantically searching for help. Wade gave him a small nod, encouraging him to continue. 

“You what, Pete? What did you think you would accomplish by detaining me here?”

Pete made a small squeaking noise.

“Can you try? Can you try to say it for me?”

Wade sat down on the bed. He definitely was not one of those enhanced super-soldier types, able to get it up multiple times in one chapter, but Jesus was his body trying. Matt was just fucking rolling Pete; the poor kid had started out all confidence and bluster, and now he was practically trembling. The only person he’d ever seen flip faster was Matt himself, who’d gone from all sweet and submissive under Wade to someone who was absolutely radiating dominance and strength. The man was like a sex chameleon and Wade was here for it!

Matt had his back to both of them, totally naked and seemingly unfazed by that fact, and Wade took a moment to just stare and admire his… were they doing labels? Was Matt his boyfriend? Jesus, he was too old to have a boyfriend - much less two. But still. Boyfriend felt good and Matt and Pete both felt good and what was so wrong with labels anyway?  _ Boyfriend.  _ He let the word roll around in his head.  _ Boyfriends?  _

His eyes trailed across Matt’s shoulders and strong back, over the deep scars that stood out on his pale skin, and down his tight waist.  _ Fuck.  _ Pete had stood up and was behind Matt now, all long lines and lean muscles compared to Matt’s sturdy frame. Pete was just the perfect little twink and Matt was so fucking thicc and… 

_ [Fucking pay attention!]  _

_ Shit.  _ Wade realized he hadn’t been listening to what they were saying and that he’d probably missed some prime dirty-talk. His eyes went wide as Pete dropped to his knees behind Matt and licked a long line up his inner thigh.

Matt brought his free hand to the wall next to his restrained one, bracing himself as Pete moved up, burying his jaw between Matt’s cheeks.

“Oh fuck, Pete,” Matt groaned, resting his head against his hands. “You don’t gotta…” his voice caught in his throat. 

Wade could hear Pete working, wet and sloppy, small whimpers of his own occasionally escaping his mouth. Pete’s hands were tight on his own thighs, and Wade realized they’d need to have a talk later about how it was absolutely ok to mark Matt up. Still, it was fun to watch him teeter precariously on his knees, trying his best to clean Matt up without touching him, and Wade leaned in to enjoy the show.

A tremor ran through Matt’s body and Pete made an obscene slurping noise before slowly standing up, running a line of small kisses up Matt’s back and neck. He stood up on tiptoes to whisper something in Matt’s ear. 

Matt laughed, rough and ragged sounding. “You’d better,” he replied to whatever Pete had said, and then Pete kissed him once more on the back of his neck and hopped across the room to dig in the black bag that held his clothes. There was a tense silence for a few minutes as Pete searched for something, and then he stood back up holding a small spray bottle triumphantly. 

Pete returned to Matt and spritzed a few drops over the webbing, and soon Matt’s hand was free. Matt turned around to face Pete, smiling and rubbing his wrist. “Did you really not know if you had that?” he asked, leaning forward to nip at Pete’s lower lip. “How long would I have been stuck there if you didn’t?” 

Pete lowered his eyes. “I mean, you wouldn’t have been stuck. I could have broken it, but there’s a chance it might have taken a chunk of the wall with.” 

“We’ll need to teach you a lesson about appropriate timing.” Matt’s voice was stern, but his smile was fond, and Wade found himself wondering if he could get a lesson too. 

In the end, Matt was able to get showered and out the door only ten minutes late. 

_ [See? I told you. Whatever you want…] _

_ Noted for next time. _

Wade handed Matt a travel mug of coffee, and Pete tucked a bag with three large muffins into his bag, with a command to share with Karen and Foggy. He slipped on his glasses and was out the door with a smile, and just the slightest hint of a hickey sticking out above his white collar. 

Once he was gone, Wade turned to Pete with a grin. “Ready to show me what you’ve got?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wade Wilson keeps talking to me, you guys. I don't even know what to do anymore. I think I'm losing my mind. 
> 
> Like Wade, I need constant attention and validation to live. So please shout at me in the comments!


	12. Twelve

Peter Parker wasn’t used to feeling like this.

In all fairness, he wasn’t even sure what he was feeling. Safe. Protected. Cherished. None of these felt quite right… and even if they were, they weren’t words that Pete would have used to describe anything he wanted from anyone else. He was Spider-Man. He didn’t need someone to take care of him.

The past 24 hours had been unlike anything he’d ever experienced in his life. 

Pete knew he was inexperienced; he had tried to prepare himself to expect new things from the two older men, but nothing could have prepared him for what it felt like to be taken apart by Matt and Wade the night before. Nothing could have prepared him for watching Wade fuck Matt until he cried; for knowing Wade wanted Pete to fuck him. Nobody -  _ nobody -  _ had ever wanted that before. 

He’d suggested it, once, to a guy from his dorm named Eddie. They’d slept together a few times, and he’d liked the guy and thought maybe they could be something more. But when he’d suggested it, Eddie had just laughed.  _ “That’s not what anyone is thinking about when they look at you, Peter. Trust me on that.” _

Pete had known it was bullshit. He didn’t have low self-esteem. He’d broken up with Eddie on the spot - not because Eddie wouldn’t let Pete fuck him which was, obviously, Eddie’s choice to make, but because he knew that wasn’t how you talked to people. You said, “no thanks. I’m totally into dudes but I’m not really interested in things being stuck up my ass.” You didn’t say “I have no interest in your dick and you can extrapolate my personal feelings on that out to the entirety of mankind.”

Eddie had been an asshole.

That didn’t change the fact that, based on Pete’s own, personal, anecdotal evidence, Eddie was right.

And, yeah. That kind of sucked. 

So when Wade had offered… and then gone out of his way to make sure it was perfect for Pete…

Pete was already at the point where he expected that level of awareness from Matt. It made sense; it was a part of Matt’s enhancements. He couldn’t help but read emotional responses. When Pete had webbed him to the wall this morning - and his dick jumped slightly at the memory - he had wanted to be in control. He had wanted it bad… right up until the moment when he realized that he had no clue what he was doing. And Matt had let him have that control right up until the exact same moment. But when his brain started to fry and his palms started to sweat, Matt had heard his heart pounding and had taken charge immediately. It was perfect and Pete loved it. 

He couldn’t explain what allowed Wade to be so equally perceptive.

When Matt had left and Wade had turned to him, Pete had felt the panic rising up again. He wanted this. He really, really wanted it, but he had no clue how to make it happen. Wade had just grinned at him, wild and toothy and prettier than a man who looked like Wade had any right to. He’d laid back on the bed, face totally innocent, eyes brimming with sin, and asked, as if it were nothing,  _ “So, you wanna work me open? Or do you wanna watch while I do it for you?” _

Wade wasn’t Matt, and Pete was grateful for that fact. Wade didn’t make Pete use his words. Pete was fairly certain he wouldn’t have been able to find those words, regardless of how many times Matt asked him to in his silky-smooth lawyer voice. Instead, Wade just smiled harder, coated one finger in lube, and reclined back on his elbows as he pressed it into himself.  _ “Figures.”  _ His voice was already turning breathless.  _ “One of my boyfriends likes to listen. The other likes to watch.” He grunted as he pushed a second finger into himself. “Good thing I’m as pretty as I am vocal.” _

In the end, Pete had been too turned on to even remember to be nervous. When he’d slid into Wade - felt Wade around him tight and hot and so smooth - it had been too perfect to worry. And even if the panic had tried to seep back in, the praise that Wade whispered filled his head and left no room for doubt. 

Pete was half hard now just thinking about it, and he pressed the heel of his hand into his groin as he settled deeper into Matt’s couch. 

Wade chuckled. “You thinkin’ about me, Itsy Bitsy?”

Pete opened his eyes and frowned. Wade was dressed in his red suit, mask on but pulled up so it was just covering his forehead, katana’s crisscrossing his back. “You have to go out?” Pete asked, trying not to sound upset.

“Awww, baby.” Wade sat down on the couch, straddling Pete’s legs before he had a chance to move. “Wish I didn’t. Wouldn’t ever leave you and daddy if I didn’t have to. But I promised some bad people that I would take care of some other, even badder people for them, and I don’t want to think about what they might do if I went back on that promise.”

“I could go with?” Pete suggested, knowing full well it wasn’t an option.

Now it was Wade’s turn to frown. “We both know that’s a bad idea, Petey. Nobody - especially me - wants your good name associated with the kind of work I do.” 

Pete knew he was right. Spider-Man didn’t kill people, and that wasn’t going to change. And he didn’t necessarily want Wade to change, either. Pete didn’t like what Wade did, but he respected it. Still... 

He let the pout settle into his entire body - closing his eyes, pushing out his lower lip, crossing his arms, and jutting out his hips. 

“Does that work on most people?”

Pete winked one eye open. “Is it working on you?”

“Not especially.” 

Pete sighed. “No, not usually, no. It works on Clint sometimes, and Coulson but he’s a pushover.”

Wade ruffled Pete’s hair. “It’s nice to know Spider-Man can be a little shit sometimes.” He stood up, then pulled Pete up off the couch and into his arms. The contrast felt strange; Pete - always consciously aware of being the strongest one in the room - felt small and protected, wrapped up in Wade’s large frame, pressed up against the rough fabric of Deadpool’s suit while he himself was wearing only a pair of Matt’s boxers and one of his old T-shirts. (And yeah, Wade joked about it, but Matt really did have the softest clothes.) It felt nice. Maybe even normal. Or, at least as close to normal as Pete was ever going to find. 

“Odin’s Merkin,” Wade cursed under his breath, pressing a kiss into the top of Pete’s head. “The things I want to do with you.”

Pete smiled, looked up, and caught Wade’s lips with his own. The kiss was soft and unrushed; a promise of millions of kisses yet to come. “Get your work done and hurry home so we can get started, then,” he commanded when they finally pulled apart. 

“Sir, yes sir.” Wade swooped in for one last kiss, grabbing a handful of Pete’s ass in the process, then bolted up the stairs and exited the apartment onto Matt’s roof.

When Matt returned home from work a few hours later, he found Pete in a similar spot as Wade had left him - reclined lazily on the couch, surfing social media. Pete set his phone aside and watched Matt as he came into the apartment, and the smile slowly faded from his face. 

Matt was tired, but there was something more than that. Pete watched as he removed his red glasses and set them on the small shelf by the front door, where he also hung his keys and leaned up his cane. His eyes were unfocused as usual, but they seemed slightly wider, and Matt’s nostrils flared as he took a deep breath. His fingers trembled slightly as he pulled off his jacket, hanging it carefully in the closet before loosening his tie and unbuttoning the top button on his crisp, white dress shirt. Matt rolled up his shirtsleeves and Pete couldn’t help but stare. His boyfriend had nice forearms, always, but they were tenser than usual - muscles held tight and taught. Matt ran a hand through his dark hair, causing it to stand up on end. “How was your day?” he finally asked Pete, and the half smile he gave didn’t travel past his lips. 

“Ok,” Pete answered tentatively, standing and moving towards Matt. “How was yours?” 

Matt dropped his head onto Pete’s shoulder, pressing his nose into the crook of Pete’s neck. His arms snaked around Pete’s waist as he breathed in deeply. “Rough. The Potter case didn’t go the way we wanted it to. But I’m better.” Matt let his lips brush across Pete’s skin as he talked. “I’m better now that I’m here with you. Wade had to work?”

Pete nodded, then the two stood in silence for several minutes. Matt’s fingers snuck under the hem of Pete’s shirt, seeking out warm skin, as he continued to run his lips across Pete’s neck and shoulder. Pete could feel him trembling as the tension that was eating at him tried to push its way to the surface. 

Pete knew that feeling. He had lived that feeling. He had only ever found one way to rid himself of that feeling.

“Let’s go out tonight,” he said quietly.

Matt lifted his head and his lips moved in the same mockery of a smile. “You want me to take you out on a date?”

“No.” Pete shook his head. “Not like that. We’ve been cooped up in this house too long. I want you to take me  _ out  _ tonight.”

Matt’s fingers dug into Pete’s ribs. His teeth dragged across Pete’s throat. “You sure you’re feeling up to that?”

“I think we proved last night I’m feeling up for anything,” Pete answered, trying to will his body not to react to Matt’s ministrations. He took a step backwards, even as Matt tried to hold on tighter, pulling their hips together. “That’s for after,” Pete murmured, unable to resist grinding up against Matt. “First, take me  _ dancing. _ ” 

Matt growled. “Fuck, Pete. What did I do to deserve you?”

Pete just grinned and kissed him gently on the side of his jaw. “Come on. We can’t let Wade have all the fun, right?” 

Ten minutes later, anyone in Hell’s Kitchen lucky enough to have looked up at the right moment would have seen two red-clad figures swinging across the skyline. 

It was, all things considered, a fairly slow night in the Kitchen. Together they’d stopped a mugging, broken up a drug-deal, and hassled a weapons dealer named Turk who Matt apparently had a pre-existing relationship with. Now they were sitting on a rooftop side-by-side, thighs pressed up tight against each other. Pete tried to let the tension drain from his body. The drug-deal had been last and, while it hadn’t been a hard fight by any means - especially with the two of them working together - Pete still felt a little shook up about it. They had been using kids to do their deliveries, and those kids had looked so scared - underfed and without hope. Pete could remember a time when he’d known that fear. The fear of not knowing where your next meal was coming from, it could lead people to make the wrong choices…

“Hey,” Matt said quietly, placing his hand over Pete’s. “It’s ok. We did everything we could for them, and Misty’s the one taking them in. She’ll do right by them, ok? It’s all for the best.”

Pete leaned his head on Matt’s shoulder. “I know. Still.”

Fighting with Matt had felt good. Fighting with Daredevil had always been something Pete had looked forward to - something he’d hoped for when he leapt off the tower and into the night. He didn’t need to go out into the city anymore. He was an Avenger, after all, and the others didn’t do nightly patrolling. They saved themselves for  _ bigger  _ things. But Pete liked being the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. He wasn’t prepared to lose that, even if it meant missing a movie night or three. And the fact that it sometimes meant he got to meet up with a dark stranger in red leather who had a jawline that could cut diamonds and a voice like sin…

Well, let’s just say that imagining what was under that mask had played a role in more than a few of Pete’s post-fight-masturbation-sessions.

Now, knowing Daredevil was Matt made it a thousand times better. He didn’t need to imagine what was under the mask. He didn’t need to wonder how the man seemed so able to anticipate what Pete needed before he even realized it himself. How he seemed to know that Pete was in trouble, even when their backs were together. Now, Pete could anticipate Matt’s movements. He knew how Matt was anticipating his. They moved like one. It was perfect. It was almost as good as sex.

Almost.

They sat in silence for a few more moments, and Pete was about to suggest they swing their way home when Matt tilted his head to the side in that way Pete was learning to know so well. He slowed his breathing, keeping his heart calm and hoping that he wasn’t drowning out whatever it was that Matt was listening to. 

“Shit,” Matt finally said. “I don’t suppose there’s any way I could convince you to go back to the apartment and wait for me there?”

“Absolutely not.”

“That’s what I figured. Alright. Let’s go.” 

They didn’t go far, foregoing swinging and jumping across rooftops as the buildings got closer to the ground. They stopped on a three-story building overlooking a large concrete slab. Beyond the barren lot was a long, flat warehouse, and then the docks. The warehouse had seen better days; Pete could see from where they were standing that most of the windows had been boarded over, and there were no trucks parked at its loading docks. 

Matt nodded over the side of the building, and Pete looked down into a dark alley.

In the shadows, a man was standing leaned up against an oversized black van. He was wearing a black trench coat despite the warm weather, and Pete thought he could see a trace of something white on the black shirt he wore beneath. His Spidey-Senses tingled slightly. It wasn’t a full-on alert, but this guy was definitely dangerous.

He followed Matt quickly down a nearby fire escape, wondering who this guy was and if they were about to fight him. Pete doubted it - if they were, they certainly weren’t going about it the right way. Surely the man would have heard them coming by now. 

Matt walked towards the man in black, who nodded at him as a greeting. “Red.” He turned towards Pete and looked him once over, raising an eyebrow in something halfway between confusion and disdain. “Little Red?” The man turned back to Matt. “The fuck is this, anyway? Whatcha doing out here? Thought we had ourselves a deal?”

“There’s a lot of firepower in that van, Frank,” Matt said coolly. “You expecting trouble?”

The man in black - Frank - grinned, and  _ damn  _ Pete felt like he should be able to place that name, but he couldn’t. “I’m always expecting trouble, Red.”

“At an empty warehouse?”

Frank seemed genuinely taken aback at that. He looked at Matt carefully. “You feelin’ ok, Red? No problems with those ears of yours, are there?”

Pete felt his heart jump in his chest.  _ He knew.  _ This man, this  _ Frank _ , knew about Matt’s hearing.  _ But how? And why? _

“That warehouse isn’t empty,” Frank continued. “There’s an army in there.”

Matt paused, cocking his head. His lips drew together tightly and his shoulder’s tensed. After a moment, he shook his head. “An armory, yes, but not an…” He froze, his hand reaching out and gripping Pete’s shoulder tightly. “They’re Hand.” His voice was hardly more than a whisper. “There are at least forty of them - maybe closer to 50. They know we’re here. They weren’t moving - meditating maybe? - controlling their heart rate and breathing. That’s why I couldn’t sense them.”

Frank nodded. “I haven’t been able to sneak up on them yet, and I counted forty-three but it’s possible I missed some. They’re slippery little fuckers with ears everywhere. They remind me of you, Red. NO wonder the lot of you get along so we…”

“That’s enough, Frank,” Matt interrupted. His hand was still on Pete’s shoulder, and his fingers twitched slightly. Pete could feel Frank’s eyes glance to the point of contact and then dart quickly away.

“What’s your plan?” Matt asked.

Frank shrugged. “Same as always.”

“One on more than forty?”

“I’ve faced worse.”

“I know you have. But this is the Hand, Frank. They’re not what you’re used to. They’re...” Matt trailed off.

Frank rolled his eyes. “That’s sweet. You worried about me?”

“I made a promise.”

“Goddamnit, Red!” 

Pete watched carefully as the man took a deep breath and regained his composure. 

“What are you suggesting then? All three of us head in? I’m not holding back; they’ve been taking kids.”

“Two on forty-five sounds like a lot better odds.”

“Like hell!” Pete interjected. “I’m not leaving.”

“What the fuck?” Frank exclaimed at the same time. “You got an actual Avenger wanting to get his hands dirty down here with us commoners and you’re just gonna pass on that?”

“Frank,” Matt began, but Pete cut him off before he could continue.

“No. I’m not leaving. You can’t make me.”

Matt set his jaw.

“I’m pretty sure you’ve got no right to ask him to leave,” Frank added with a shrug. “I mean, it’s not like I get invited to the super-good-guy retreats or anything. I haven’t seen the org-chart. But even you’re smart enough to know Spider-Man outranks Daredevil any day. You got no say here, Red.” 

Pete grinned under his mask. He still wasn’t sure who this Frank in all black was, but he was starting to like him. 

“Hey, how come I wasn’t invited to the party?” Wade asked, stepping out of the shadows. He eyed up Frank, and then turned to Matt and Pete. “Itsy Bitsy? Darkness? Do I need to be worried that you’re cheating on me with a different kind of crazy?”

Pete’s eyes snapped towards Matt as he barked out a laugh. “Absolutely not. Frank was just letting us in on his plan to take down a Hand stronghold.” He nodded at the warehouse in front of them.

“Ohhh…” Wade rubbed his hands together gleefully. “I love a good team-up. Ok. I’m in! Who’s dying today?”

“Nobody,” Matt and Pete answered in unison.

“Everybody,” Frank growled at the same time. 

“Well that certainly makes it hard to pick sides.” Wade over-exaggerated looking between the three men. He turned to Frank. “On one hand, your plan sounds like a lot more fun.” He looked back at Matt and Pete. “On the other hand, dat ass. Or, dose asses, I suppose.”

Frank scowled at the three of them. 

“No,” Pete insisted firmly. “No killing.” 

“What if I promised to do my best? Would that be good enough for you, baby boy?”

Pete flushed at the nickname, hating his body’s reaction even if nobody could see it under the suit. 

“No killing,” Matt repeated.

“Yeah, I’m not agreeing to shit,” Frank said with a scowl. “I was happy enough to do this on my own.”

“Ok, it’s a plan!” Wade clapped his hands and rubbed them together briskly. “Two ‘no killings,’ one ‘definitely killing,’ and one ‘we’ll see what happens.’ Anything else I need to know?”

“This isn’t a joke!” Matt snapped at him.

Wade took a step closer to him, so their bodies were only inches apart. “Oh, I’m aware, daddy. I never joke about killing. I’m just not willing to make you a promise I can’t keep.”

“Ok, hold on,” Frank put his hands up in the air. “I gotta know what’s going on here. Are the three of you a thing? And if so, whose kink is the red? Cause I know it sure as shit ain’t his.” Frank nodded at Matt.

Wade snorted. “You got that right. Hornhead here’s got plenty of filthy kinks, but color ain’t one of them.”

“Jesus, I’m already sorry I asked.” Frank turned away. 

“Can we please focus?” Matt’s voice was stern, but Pete could tell he was biting back a smile. “The building is only one level and there are no walls - it’s just one big room, which will work in our favor. There are boxes, and a few vehicles, but not many other places to hide. Most of the doors have been sealed shut. Just the two side doors work. That’s good. Fewer ways in means fewer ways out. We won’t be able to surprise them, but if we move fast... There’s also an access door on the roof and a catwalk. That door is welded shut too, but you should be able to force it no problem.” He nodded at Pete, then turned to Frank. “Got anything else to add?”

“They have guns,” Frank said. “A lot of them. But I haven’t seen them use any. Their guards have swords. The guns have stayed in their crates as far as I can tell. Seems like they’re dealing in them, not using them, which should help us. Still, it’s probably best we do everything possible to keep them away from the stockpile. They’ll be able to kill you do-gooders a lot faster if a few of them got their hands on some semi-automatics.” 

Matt was silent for a moment, then continued. “Alright, here’s the plan. Deadpool, you and I will attack from the sides - one in each door. While we have them distracted, Frank and Spider-Man will enter from the roof. Spidey, you web up as many as you can. Frank, you… you do what you need to do to keep them away from the armory.”

Frank nodded once, sharply, and pulled open the sliding door to his van. Pete gasped at the same time Wade let out a groan that clearly belonged in the bedroom.

The van was filled with guns, explosives, and other weapons. 

“Oh my god am I finally dead? Is this heaven? No, you’re right?” Pete recognized the way Wade’s voice sounded when he started talking to the voice in his head that he’d told Pete was named ‘Yellow.’ “I’m sure that’s exactly what happened. They killed me last night with their dicks. I’m dead, and this is the Good Place.” He clambered up into the van, following Frank, still mumbling to himself. 

“No.” Matt called out from next to Pete. 

“But...” Wade popped his head out of the van, three grenades in each hand.

“No,” Matt repeated forcefully.

“But daddy…” Wade whined. “What if I promise that I’ll only use them in case of an emergency? The Punisher is willing to share his toys with me. Please don’t be mean, daddy. Please?”

Pete’s eyes went wide.  _ The Punisher. Frank Castle. Oh shit.  _ Tony was definitely going to be pissed if he caught wind of this.

Matt noticed Pete’s distress and gently squeezed his hand. “Fine,” he said, still talking to Wade. “The grenades are fine but put the gun back. You can’t use that thing in close quarters anyway. I don’t need you shooting me by accident.”

Wade grumbled but, from behind his back, he pulled out a giant machine-gun looking thing that Pete hadn’t even noticed. “We’ll meet again,” Wade murmured, kissing the gun gently. “He just doesn’t understand our love.” He handed the gun back to Frank, who was watching the entire exchange with an expression somewhere between amused and baffled. 

“We good then?” Frank asked as he and Wade jumped out of the van. He’d taken off his coat and Pete could now clearly see the white skull emblazoned on the front of his Kevlar vest.  _ What is Daredevil doing working with the Punisher _ , he wondered.  _ Why does the Punisher know that Daredevil is blind? _

Matt squeezed his hand again, firmer this time, and brushed his thumb over Pete’s thumb once. Then he was gone, walking towards the building. “Give us a few minutes to distract as many of them as possible,” he called back, before breaking into a run. Wade slapped Pete on the ass before chasing after Matt, knocking his shoulder into Matt’s when he caught up, neither of them breaking their stride. Pete watched in silence as the two men separated, each moving towards opposite doors of the building, before they disappeared inside.

Pete didn’t like this. He was used to more planning, to comms that let you know what was happening, to assigned roles that he understood. He turned towards Frank… Towards  _ The Punisher _ … who was staring at him questioningly. 

Pete glared at him, knowing that the eyes of his suit replicated the action. “What’re you staring at?”

“Nothing,” Frank said, laughing and shaking his head. “It’s just… I wouldn’t have guessed it, is all. Good for Red. Good for all three of you.”

Pete was about to reply when he heard gunfire - Wade’s he hoped - and the hairs on his arms stood up on end. “They need us. Let’s go.”    


“Yeah, sure,” Frank said, strapping two more guns to his legs. The two took off towards the building. “There’s a ladder…” 

“No time.” Pete flung Frank over his shoulder, ignoring his protest. “Alley-oop!” Before Frank could even start to complain, Pete swung them both up to the top of the warehouse. 

“Shit, warn a guy,” Frank complained, brushing himself off, once his feet were back on the ground. Or, as it was, the roof of the warehouse. “And not a word of that to anyone. Ever! I’ve got a reputation to keep.”

“Sorry.” Pete didn’t feel sorry. He could hear the fight going on below, and it didn’t sound great. Matt and Wade were in there with fifty guys? Why hadn’t he challenged that? It was too much. They were going to get hurt or worse… He found the door and ripped it off the frame.

“Holy hell,” Frank muttered under his breath as the two men went inside the building. Pete propped the door back into the frame and webbed it into place, ensuring that nobody could sneak in behind them. By the time he turned back around, Frank had already set up a sniper rifle and was picking off Hand soldiers one-by-one beneath them. 

Pete looked down on the fight. Despite starting on opposite ends of the building, Wade and Matt had found each other and were now fighting back to back, almost indistinguishable in the sea of red ninjas. He shot a few webs down towards the fray before realizing the angle was all wrong. He could knock weapons out of hands from up here, but little else. He looked quickly around. There didn’t seem to be another way up to the catwalk except from the roof, and those doors were all sealed shut. Maybe the ninjas could make it up to the catwalk but, even if they did, Frank was a grown-ass-man and a vigilante. The Punisher no less! He could handle himself.

“Alright, it’s been real. Please try not to shoot me Mr. Punisher, Sir!” Pete shouted as he jumped over the railing, shooting out a web after his feet had left the catwalk, swinging out over the fray. He thought maybe he heard Frank grunt a reply, but it didn’t matter. He kicked one ninja in the head as he landed and webbed four more together and to the ground. It was chaos! Figures in red, faces covered, attacked him from all sides.

“Hey, how’s it goin’? Nice to see you.” Pete ducked under a sword and webbed up two more Hand. “It’s really great to be here. This is my first time in a superhero ninja fight and I feel like that’s a really big milestone for me.” Three more hand soldiers went down. “What’s a ninja’s favorite kind of shoe?” Two faceless figures in red robes moved towards Pete. He ducked to the side at the last minute and webbed them together. “Sneakers! Get it?” Pete shot a web at a Hand soldier who was about to attack Matt and pulled him backwards. The man shouted words that sounded like curses and Pete webbed his mouth shut before affixing him and three of his friends to a steel I-beam. “Everyone’s a critic,” Pete muttered, dodging more blows and trying to web up as many ninjas as he could. 

“WEBS!!!!” 

Pete’s head spun towards the shout. Ten or more Hand soldiers were quickly closing in on Wade, swords drawn. Wade had lost an arm, cut off at the elbow, a small hand already beginning to grow from the stump, and he wielded a single katana in front of him ineffectively. It wasn’t going to be enough!

Pete looked around frantically. The ground was concrete, and in the floor there was a large, heavy manhole cover - probably a remnant of whatever industry had occupied the warehouse when it had been in use. Pete shuddered at the thought of what might have been drained through it, probably directly into the Hudson river. He tore the metal circle out of the ground and flung it at Wade like it was a giant frisbee. 

“FUCK YEAH!” Wade yelled, holding on to the edge of the steel disk and spinning in a circle, knocking out the closest ninjas. “TURTLE POWER!” He flung the cover hard, and it embedded itself with a dull, loud  _ thud _ into the chest of another member of the Hand, knocking him down and taking two others with. “Huh…” Wade mused to himself. “When Captain America does that, it always comes back.”

Pete kept fighting, sometimes back to back with Wade and Matt, sometimes apart. He could tell that Wade had switched to lethal force. He could hear the gunshots coming from the Punisher’s rifle. He knew he had webbed up at least twenty ninjas on his own, and yet they were still coming. It didn’t make any sense! And where were the bodies? If Wade and Frank were taking them down, there should be bodies. Pete wasn’t sure how long they’d been fighting, but he felt exhausted. Wade must have been tired too; he’d stopped shouting nonsense at least. And Matt, he…

Pete looked around frantically.  _ Matt.  _ He didn’t see him. “DP!” Pete shouted at Wade. “Where’s DD?”

Wade shook his head, and Pete could see the panic through his mask. “Go! Find him!”

Pete sprung up, leaping up to the ceiling and suspending himself there. He looked down.  _ Red everywhere. Not enough bodies. No Matt.  _ He looked at Frank. Frank shook his head,  _ no. _

A chill ran down Pete’s spine, and the hairs on his arms stood on end. Pete scanned over the room again, and that’s when he saw it - one of the doors was open. It hadn’t been open before. He was sure it hadn’t been open before. Pete swung down, taking out six more ninjas on his way out the door for all the good he was starting to realize it would do any of them. He ran out into the night, eyes darting in all directions. 

There! At the end of the docks! Matt was standing, talking to…  _ Wait, what? Oh, shit.  _

He was talking to the woman from the night Pete had been attacked. He was talking to Lady Bullseye. Pete started to move towards them.

Matt held out a hand, stopping him.

Pete watched in silence, still hearing the sounds of fighting coming from behind him. There was an explosion that rocked the foundations of the docks and Pete spun around - light blinding him. Wade had decided it was an emergency, apparently. Fine. Good, even. 

He turned back to Matt, whose hand was still out - a request for Pete to stay where he was. He wished he had Matt’s ears - that he could hear what they were saying. Lady Bullseye leaned in and whispered something in Matt’s ear. His shoulders visibly slumped. 

Lady Bullseye called out something in a language that Pete didn’t recognize. The sounds of fighting stopped. Lady Bullseye turned back to Matt and smiled. She said something else that Pete couldn’t hear. 

Matt dropped to his knees.

Pete started running. 

“Wait!” Matt called out as Pete reached them. Pete didn’t stop until he was by Matt’s side, but he didn’t attack, either.

“Well?” Lady Bullseye’s eyes were cold and a faint smile danced across her lips. 

“Let her go.”

“DD, I…”

“Let her go!” Matt practically shouted. 

“Smart.” Pete watched as Lady Bullseye walked away down the docks, her hips swaying as she went. She didn’t turn to look at them as she called back over her shoulder: “Keep being smart, Mr. Murdock. Everything will work out just fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peter Parker fight scenes are a lot harder to write than Matt Murdock fight scenes. There's so much more dialogue!!!
> 
> Also, let me know what you're thinking! All of your lovely comments motivate me to ignore my numerous responsibilities and write more instead!


	13. Thirteen

Matt stayed on his knees, head down, feeling Maki walk away from them. She was letting him hear her; he knew that. Her footsteps were louder than they needed to be. She let her sword in its scabbard fall against her back, leather slapping on leather.

He had known. He wasn’t sure how, but when he’d met her at the courthouse earlier that day, under the impeccably tailored suit and designer glasses, he had known immediately who she was. She smelled like the Hand. She moved like them, even when she was stalking the chambers in unreasonably high stilettos. It had been in her voice when she’d argued, the cold silence. The emptiness. There was no emotional response to read. He couldn’t tell what she wanted. He couldn’t tell what was coming next.

Now, as she walked away, she sounded like them too, with the exception of the intentional noises she let go for his benefit. Her heartbeat was a whisper. Her breath was almost imperceptible. The way she had fought… Matt knew he should be in much worse shape right now. Her fighting put Elektra to shame, but she had held back. She wanted him where he was, mostly unharmed, kneeling, broken. 

And she knew his name.

Matt’s mouth filled with the taste of warm copper and he spit on the ground, wiping his bleeding lip with the back of his gloved hand. Next to him, Pete still hadn’t spoken. He could only imagine how Pete saw him right now - on his knees in front of the woman who had hurt him so badly just a week earlier. To say Matt was ashamed of himself was so far beyond an understatement…

And yet, he knew it had been the right choice. The only choice. What else was he supposed to do? Later there could be options. Later he could plan an attack. But for now… he had done what needed to be done. 

It wasn’t until he heard Frank and Wade approaching that he found the strength to stand. He wasn’t that badly hurt, not physically anyway, not compared to injuries he’d faced in the past. He could feel that Pete and Wade were worried about him. He didn’t deserve that. It was too much to face.

He turned to Frank instead. “I need you to get Karen out of town for a few days. Can you do that for me?”

Frank shrugged. “You payin’?”

“Yeah. Sure.” Matt sighed. “There’s some money in my desk at work, for an emergency. I can… we can go there now.” 

Frank chuckled. “That’s real sweet of you to assume I haven’t broken into your office a hundred times before. I know where your stash is, Red. Also, you need better security in that place. I’ll talk to Karen about upgrading you, when we’re not busy. Top drawer like usual?”

Matt nodded.

“Sounds good. See you in a week.”

Matt listened to Frank’s heart as he retreated, trying not to think about what his hard earned money was about to pay for. At least they had the money now. That was new and helpful. And Frank made Karen happy, which meant that she might actually leave the city with him and go somewhere safe, unlike when he’d asked in the past. But none of that meant Matt wasn’t deeply disturbed by the thought of the two of them together. Karen was his friend. It had become fairly clear fairly early that they weren’t well suited for much more than that, and he wanted her to be happy… But why did it have to be with Frank Castle of all people?

Frank’s van roared to life and he was gone. 

Wade moved to slip a hand around Matt’s waist, but Matt stiffened and pulled away. He couldn’t. Not here. Not after… 

“We need to get ahold of Foggy. Tell him to stay with Clint - to stay somewhere safe.” Matt couldn’t bring himself to turn towards Pete, even as he knew his words should be addressed towards the Avenger.

“I can reach out to him,” Pete answered softly. Matt closed in on himself, trying to pull further away from the sound of Pete talking even as he just wanted more of it to fill his ears and drown out the sound of his own voice, echoing in his head, demanding to know  _ what in the Goddamn hell have you done? Why would you do it? And how could you possibly think it was ok? _

Somewhere, at the edge of his perception, he could hear that Pete was off of his phone and talking to him again. Even if he didn’t fully hear Pete’s words, his brain acknowledged that Foggy and Clint had plans to hold up inside Avengers tower for the next few days. That was good. He should thank Pete for handling that...

“Can we… Can you take me home?” he asked Wade, instead.  _ I need you. I need you to help me. I need you to somehow make this ok. I know that this will never be ok.  _

“Of course,” Wade said softly. 

Matt wasn’t sure how they got back to his apartment. He didn’t remember any of them speaking, or the path they took, or what the city felt like. How it smelled. How it sounded. He supposed they must have walked, and he didn’t want to think about what that would have looked like to anyone who saw them. He couldn’t. He couldn’t process anything tonight. He…

Wade wrapped a single arm around his waist from behind. Matt was surprised to discover that Wade was naked except for his briefs. He’d missed that somehow. Was he losing time? He tried to step away.  _ I don’t deserve... _

“Don’t.” Wade’s voice was firm, bordering on threatening, and he held Matt even tighter. “Whatever she said to you, we’ll deal with it tomorrow. Right now, don’t think. Just shut it off.” 

Matt felt his fists clench instinctively. His shoulders pulled forward as he drew into himself. 

“Don’t!”

Wade shook him slightly and Matt gasped, his body going rigid.

“Matthew,” Wade growled. He shook Matt again, harder this time, and Matt went limp in his arms. 

Matt felt Pete’s heat as the young man stepped forward into his space, and he too was somehow now clad only in his boxers. Nimble fingers lifted up to Matt’s head and pulled off his horned cowl. Hands - two of Pete’s and one of Wade’s - worked together to divest Matt of his suit. Matt shuddered, instincts screaming at him to run, to get out, to go.  _ You don’t deserve this. You’re not good enough. You’ve failed them. _

Pete’s heartbeat pulsed through his palms as he ran his hands up Matt’s now exposed chest and over his shoulders, finally bringing them to wrap around the back of Matt’s neck. He stepped forward, further invading Matt’s space, and Matt felt himself trapped between the two warm bodies. Wade moved his hand to the small of Pete’s back, drawing the three of them even closer together.

Matt dropped his head, bringing his nose to Pete’s hair. “I’m sorry.” His voice cracked as he breathed the words into Pete’s hair.  _ I should have stayed away.  _ “I’m so sorry.”

“Shhh…” Pete soothed him, fingers scratching across the nape of Matt’s neck. “Wade told you not to think.”

“But I…”

“No, Matt. Not now. We’re a team. Whatever this is, whatever the bad guys are up to, we’ll handle it together.”

Matt wanted to believe it was true. He did. He told himself it was true.  _ We’re a team. We’ll handle it together. _ He repeated the words to himself, over and over.  _ We’re a team. We’ll handle it together. _ embedding them in his brain like a prayer. Like a ritual. He was good at rituals. He understood rituals. They calmed him.  _ We’re a team. We’ll handle it together.  _ Maybe, if he repeated it enough times, it would become true.  _ We’re a team we’ll handle it together we’re a team we’ll handle it together we’reateamwe’llhandleittogether... _

Later that night, for just a moment, as the waves of pleasure washed over him, Matt even believed it. 

  
  


***

Pete walked a few steps ahead of the other two men, leading the way down back streets and dark alleys, senses on high alert for anyone who might see them. In his ear, Jarvis was dictating the best route for the trio to take in order to avoid detection. Wade followed behind, his hand carefully placed in the small of Matt’s back, guiding him.

He was trying not to feel hurt. A small part of Pete wanted to be mad, or frustrated, or at the very least annoyed - and he’d gotten past those feelings pretty well - but hurt was a hard one to push aside. Lady Bullseye had actively tried to kill him. She’d come close - injured him so badly that, even with his healing powers, he’d been out of action for a week. Pete had thought she was dead. He’d watched Wade shoot her point blank and, yeah, that wasn’t something he felt great about. He was, generally speaking, opposed to killing, but also she kind of had it coming! So, to see her standing there on the docks was confusing to say the least. And then to see Matt drop to his knees… to see Daredevil, who always got back up, not even try to stop her from walking away… it hurt. It had. There wasn’t any denying that. 

And then Pete started to pay attention to Matt and he realized that, while he didn’t seem to be injured, he definitely wasn’t anything near ok.

Pete wasn’t the only one who was hurt, and had been in the game long enough to recognize someone who was in shock when he saw them.

Matt’s first thoughts had been about Karen and Foggy, which made it pretty clear what Lady Bullseye had been talking about. She was working for Fisk, and threatening Matt and his law partners was just a part of what Fisk did. The Punisher was taking Matt’s office manager somewhere, which was weird, but Pete supposed it wasn’t really any of his business. And then he’d reached out to Clint and made sure that Foggy was with him and would stay with him for the foreseeable future. Pete was actively choosing to interpret Clint’s reply that ‘Foggy had plans to keep him ‘tied up at the tower’ for the next few days’ as metaphorical. Regardless, they wouldn’t be going anywhere any time soon. 

When he’d passed that information on, Matt hadn’t even responded. Instead, he’d asked Wade to take him home.

Which… yeah. That’d hurt too.

But shock manifested itself in different ways for different people, and Pete did the only thing he could do. He got Matt home safely.

Once they were securely in the apartment, Wade quickly stripped out of his suit and wrapped an arm around Matt. Pete knew it wasn’t right to stare. Things were rough and Matt was breaking, but damn it did his boyfriends ever look good together. Matt struggled, and Wade’s arm tightened around him, muscles visibly shifting under scarred skin. Pete slipped out of the Spider-Suit while Wade spoke directly into Matt’s ear: “Don’t. Whatever she said to you, we’ll deal with it tomorrow. Right now, don’t think. Just shut it off.” 

Pete watched as Matt’s body shifted, moving into fighting posture, and for a split second Pete wondered if Matt was going to punch Wade. And then Wade shook him and Matt gasped, tensing even further. Pete worried at how hard Matt was digging his fingernails into his own palms.

Wade growled out Matt’s name, but his eyes locked onto Pete and the message there was as clear as if Pete could see the text boxes that Wade sometimes described in his less lucid moments. Matt was crashing, and he needed to be taken out of his head.

Wade shook him again, and Pete watched as Matt went limp in his arms. 

Pete stepped forward, bringing his hands to Matt’s red hood and pulling it up off of his face. He let his hands drag across Matt’s sharp jawline on their way back to his chest. He sought out the hidden zippers and buckles, exposing Matt’s pale skin, bruises already blooming from the night’s fight. Carefully, Pete helped Matt step out of his suit, pushing it aside. Matt’s chest was warm and smooth, and Pete ran his fingers over it. This was  _ his.  _ Shock or not, Matt was his, and with that thought any last remainder of hurt vanished. Matt had taken care of him for a week, and now it was his turn to take care of Matt. 

He wrapped his arms around Matt’s neck, snuggling his nose into Matt’s shoulder, and when Wade reached around and grabbed on to him, pulling him closer, Pete felt a wave of happiness roll through him. It was going to be ok. They were going to get through this and come out stronger for it.

“I’m sorry.” Matt’s voice was rough as he buried his face into the top of Pete’s head. “I’m so sorry.”

“Shh… Wade told you not to think.” 

“But I…”

“No,” Pete cut him off. “Matt. Not now. We’re a team. Whatever this is, whatever Maki is up to, we’ll handle it together.” 

Pete pressed his lips into Matt’s. Sandwiched between them, he felt the last of Matt’s tension drain from his body. He smiled and licked into Matt’s lips, one of his hands tangling into Matt’s hair, the other reaching around to rest on Wade’s shoulder, and a sense of complete contentment filled him. This was it. This was everything he ever wanted. Maybe it was too soon, but Peter Parker didn’t have any doubt in his mind. He was in love. Matt and Wade would take care of him, and he would take care of them. Everything was going to work out just fine.

***

Matt woke up slowly, his body showing all the telltale signs of having been well fucked the night before. His head was fuzzy, senses pleasantly numbed as if he were wrapped in a cocoon. His entire body ached. He was aware enough to know that he was in his own room, his own silk sheets were pressing up against his chest, the air smelled like his home, the gentle sounds of Hell’s Kitchen came in through the window, formless for now, a familiar background. He rolled over onto his back, stretched languidly from the tips of his fingers down to his toes, and then ran his hands over his chest, grounding himself.

He narrowed his focus to his own apartment, listening to the sounds of Pete and Wade moving outside his bedroom door. The apartment smelled like all three of them, and more than a little bit like sex, and Matt wondered with a smile what the other two had been up to while he was sleeping. 

Wade was preparing to make breakfast, and suddenly Matt’s entire being was filled with  _ coffee.  _ The air in the apartment rippled as Wade broke the seal on a fresh bag. The scent filled Matt’s nose: rich and earthy and pleasantly bitter, cherries and chocolate and hints of the dark Guatemalan dirt in which it had been grown. Sweetness dashed across Matt’s tongue as Wade scooped out sugar and a few granules were whisked away into the air. Matt liked his coffee black and strong, but Pete liked it sweet and Wade… Wade was a good enough man to accommodate both of them. 

Matt smiled. Pete was in the shower. Most of the steam collected behind the door, but whisps snuck out through the cracks and rolled through the apartment, coating his skin with its wet warmth. Pete was humming softly - a song Matt didn’t recognize - but it was happy and Pete’s hips swayed to it slightly as he ran his hands over his lithe, impossibly strong body. The water droplets rang out as they struck his skin, splashing off of him and onto the tile and glass of the shower enclosure. The soap itself was unscented, but Pete still smelled like vanilla and silk, with traces of Matt and Wade clinging to his skin. 

The water turned off, and Matt felt the change of pressure in the pipes deep in his chest. He stood, stretching again and pulling on a clean shirt and a pair of loose sweatpants as he listened to Pete drying himself in the bathroom and Wade puttering around in the kitchen. There was the clank of pan, the rattle of plastic, the heat of a flame. Matt heard a gentle sizzle and the scent of bacon joined the coffee permeating the air.

Wade turned away from the stove as Matt slid open the bedroom door, and Matt felt the release of tension from his muscles as his body language shifted from worried to relieved. The muscles of his face pulled together in what Matt was sure was a glorious smile. “How you feelin’, daddy?”

Matt walked across the apartment to stand next to him, feeling the heat from the stove and the pan on his face and chest. He wrapped an arm around Wade’s waist, hand sliding up under the hem of Wade’s shirt in search of skin that was somehow soft yet rough at the same time. “I’m good. Thank you, Wade. I couldn’t have…”

Wade hummed, cutting Matt off. “You don’t have to thank me. Fucking you outa your depression is no hardship on my end.”

The door to the bathroom opened, and Matt felt the hot, thick, wet air roll over him in a wave. He pinched Wade’s hip once before releasing him, then walked over to where Pete was standing, towel wrapped around his waist. His skin was damp and hot, and it grew even hotter as Matt wasted no time in drawing his hands across it. He sighed deeply, drawing Pete closer, running his hands up and down Pete’s back, pinky finger bumping up against the fluffy cotton fibers of the towel. 

“Thank you.” He nuzzled into Pete’s neck as he spoke, feeling Pete’s pulse racing beneath his lips and nose

“You’re welcome, Matt.” Pete’s voice was choked, and his hands were tight and possessive as he held onto Matt’s hips. “I… are you ready to talk about what happened?” 

“Pants first,” Wade called out to him from the kitchen. “There’s an order to the universe, you know. It goes pants, and then coffee, and then talking. Sometimes coffee before pants. But never talking before coffee.”

Pete took a small step back, and Matt could feel that he was smiling too. He allowed himself the luxury of running his fingers over Pete’s lips and jaw, feeling the smile there, and Matt’s chest felt like it might burst. 

“I hate to say it, but Wade has a good point.” Pete kissed Matt’s fingertips as he talked. “We have plenty of time.”

Matt nodded, and he was smiling too. He let go of Pete and took a step towards the table, moving slowly to sit as Pete walked into the bedroom to dress. Wade set down the coffee and plates, then began to dish up the breakfast - nothing fancy. Just bacon and eggs and toast. 

Pete walked back into the room and joined Matt at the table, taking a sip of his coffee as he sat. The sweet liquid clung to his lips, and Matt wanted to lick it off. In his pocket, Pete’s phone chirped - the sound Matt knew was reserved for communications from his school - and he pulled it out, fingers brushing across the screen with one hand as he took a bite of his toast with the other. 

His heart skipped a beat.

Matt froze.

Pete’s heart started pounding in his chest. His palms grew clammy. A tremor ran through his entire body.

“What is it?” Matt asked quickly.

“I…” Pete’s voice got stuck in his throat. His body was reacting like it wasn’t getting enough oxygen. He passed the phone to Wade. 

“It… Oh my god.” Wade stared down at the phone, his heart pounding as well. “He’s been expelled, Matty. They expelled him for plagiarism…” Wade took an audible gulp of air before quickly continuing. “But they’re wrong. It’s a mistake. Somebody in administration fucked up. Those asshats. It’s probably just a bunch of idiot kids working over there. They meant to send this to somebody else, I’m sure.”

And now Matt knew for sure what Wade sounded like when he was lying.

“It doesn’t look like a mistake,” Pete said, taking the phone back. “The letter is addressed to me. That’s my student ID. I was in that class last semester…”

“Have you ever done anything that might be confused…” Matt started to ask, but Pete cut him off.

“If you’re about to ask me if I cheated in a biochem class, I’m going to be really fucking offended. Of course I didn’t, Matt. I wouldn’t, for one thing, and also that class was super easy.”

Matt nodded quickly. “Of course. Then it was a mistake. We can look up what the process for an appeal is online. There has to be a catalog posted. Or you can go straight to the school and talk to them. You can bring me with, if you wanted to. Tell them I’m your lawyer.” 

He wasn’t sure why he noticed the door to the building opening. He lived in an apartment building. People came and went all the time. But he noticed none the less - the slight change of pressure, the scrape of the hinges, the click of the latch as it closes again. 

Her clothing was simple. Clean lines. Silk and linen. They smelled like expensive dry cleaning, but also of the prison. She must have just been there. Visiting  _ him.  _ The scent clung to her skin and her perfectly coiffed hair. She walked to the elevator, heels clicking on the tile floors of the lobby. Matt hoped that it was broken again - no way that she would walk up the stairs all the way to the top, would she? But the elevator was moving down to get her, and then moving back up. He could smell the car that she arrived in. Expensive leather seats. There was a bar in the back. Not a taxi, of course. She would have her own driver. 

In the background, Pete and Wade were talking about appeals and contacting the Dean’s office. The elevator stopped on the top floor and she stepped off. Matt stood and, ignoring Pete and Wade’s questions, he walked to the door and opened it.

“Mr. Murdock.” Her voice was pleasant as always, lightly accented, and a smile danced on her lips. Her pulse was calm. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

“We can talk here just fine.” 

“But that’s rude, Mr. Murdock. And our relationship has always been built on politeness and professionalism. I wouldn’t want to change that now?” She raised her voice at the end of the last sentence, phrasing it as if it were a question. 

“Matt?” Pete called from inside. “What’s going on?”

Matt clenched his fists. “I don’t want you here.”

“That may be true, but I can guarantee it’s not the right choice.” She sighed. “I’m not here to hurt you or your friends, Mr. Murdock. But if you choose not to talk to me I’ll be forced to send one of my associates, and I believe that would be quite unfortunate for all parties involved.”

Matt gritted his teeth but pushed open the door further, gesturing for her to walk in. “If you try anything…”

“Politeness and professionalism, Mr. Murdock. Please, don’t stand.” She addressed Pete and Wade who were still sitting at the kitchen table. “It’s a pleasure to meet both of you. Mr. Parker,” she held out her hand.

Matt felt Pete’s eyes shift to him and he gave a small nod of his head. Pete took her hand and shook it quickly. 

“Mr. Wilson.” 

Wade shook her hand. In her defense, she didn’t flinch at all. “And you are?”

“I’m sorry. So very rude of me to not introduce myself. My name is Vanessa Fisk. I’m an associate of Mr. Murdock.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOPS I HATE PEOPLE WHO END ON CLIFFHANGERS I AM SO SORRY!!!! Also I'm realizing I probably should have tagged this for angst. ANGST! THERE BE ANGST AHEAD! Consider yourself warned. 
> 
> I cannot actually believe how many hits this story is getting. I look at those numbers go up every day and I am totally in awe. Thanks so much to all of you. I hope you are all staying safe and healthy and well. In my opinion, the best thing to do is just stay home and read extra smut!! It really seems like the only safe choice ;)


	14. Fourteen

Pete and Wade woke before Matt, which was unusual but not unheard of. The lawyer seemed to like to get his sleep in whenever he could, and it seemed like hoarding it up in reserve for times when he couldn’t sleep was just one of Matt’s many superpowers-that-weren’t-quite-superpowers. Pete had somehow found himself in the middle that night, and he had woken up in Wade’s octopus-like death grip, two strong arms wrapped tight around his chest and a leg hiked up over his thigh. Matt was lying on his stomach, and Pete had his own arm draped over his back. Wade was hard, pressed up against Pete’s ass, and Pete wiggled his hips gently to show Wade that he was both aware and appreciative. 

Wade let out a small huff of air and nipped at Pete’s ear. They untangled slowly, careful not to shake the bed, and then slipped out the bedroom door and into the living room. 

“Oh, baby boy. Fuck, you look so good.” Wade’s voice was soft and low as he led Pete to the couch. It wasn’t that they were trying to hide from Matt - they didn’t have any reason to and they both knew that he could hear them just as well out here as he could if they were still in the bedroom. But if he could keep sleeping, they might as well let him sleep. “Not sure what I did to deserve something this pretty,” Wade continued, sliding Pete’s boxers down and then pushing gently on his shoulders, encouraging him to sit. 

“Wade,” Pete mumbled, reaching out for him. 

“Hush sweetheart. You’re so cute when you’re sleepy. I just gotta get my mouth on you. Can I do that? Can I get myself a little breakfast before I make you and Matty your coffee?” Wade knelt down between Pete’s thighs. 

Pete hummed appreciatively, brain still foggy and half asleep, as Wade licked him from base to tip and then swirled his tongue around the head of Pete’s cock. He let his hands roam over Wade’s head as Wade languidly worked him over with his mouth. “Love this,” Pete said, as he ran his hands over the back of Wade’s head and down his cheekbone. “Love how you feel.”

Wade froze. He lifted his head slowly, letting Pete fall from his mouth. His eyes locked on to Pete’s. “Don’t tease, baby boy.” There was a smile on his lips, but the hurt in his eyes belied the mask he was trying to maintain. 

“I’m not… I wouldn’t…”

Wade wrapped his arms around himself and began to pull further away.

“Hey.” Pete hooked his hands under Wade’s armpits and hauled him up into his lap. It should have been awkward - Wade’s frame being so much bigger than Pete’s - but Pete’s super strength meant he could hold Wade easily. “I wasn’t teasing.” He dropped his hands down Wade’s sides, tucking under his shirt and lifting it up over his head. Wade tried to fight, to keep his arms down, but Pete gently insisted and soon he was tracing patterns over Wade’s bare chest, fingers following the scars and grooves. 

“Don’t.” Wade visibly pouted, trying to push Pete’s hands away.

“Stop that. Please?” Pete held Wade’s wrists softly but securely with one hand, and continued to run the other over his chest. “This is different, sure. But we’re all a little different, aren’t we? You don’t get down on me for sticking to stuff when I’m stressed, or on Matt for getting overstimulated on the subway. Why would you think I’d get down on you for this? I love this.” He paused, hand splayed over Wade’s heart. “This is what keeps you alive; keeps you coming home to me and Matty.”

Wade audibly gasped and blinked back tears. His eyes dropped down to where Pete was holding his hands near their laps. “Shut up,” he mumbled, shaking his head. Then louder: “Shut up! He does too mean it. He loves me!” Wade jerked his head up, eyes wide and locked on to Pete’s, as the panicked realization of what he’d just said out loud washed over him. “I… shit. I mean… damn it!”

Pete released Wade's wrists and caught his chin, staring into his eyes. It was too soon. Obviously he knew it was too soon. “I do though,” he whispered, as he leaned forward and sought out Wade’s lips with his own. Wade gave a high-pitched yelp like he’d been kicked, then growled into the kiss and - in one fluid motion - flipped them over so Pete’s back was on the couch with Wade’s legs framing his body. One knee was pressed into the back couch cushion, while the other leg was extended out, half standing on the floor. He leaned forward, kissing roughly along Pete’s neck and jaw and chest, while simultaneously rubbing their bodies together. “Fuck, baby boy. Shit, you can’t say stuff like that. You’re so good and I’m a bad, bad man and…”

“Shut up,” Pete interrupted, surprised at the sharpness of his own voice. He grabbed the back of Wade’s head and slammed their mouths together. His words came out rushed, fit between violent kisses. “Whatever you were about to say. Don’t. Just. Don’t. I love you. And. You’re not. Allowed to say. Mean things. About people. I love. Got it?” 

Wade nodded his head frantically as Pete wrapped his legs around his torso, pulling him impossibly closer, their erections rubbing together through the thin fabric of Wade’s boxers. “Get these off,” Pete growled.

Wade scrambled off of him, quickly kicking off the offending garment and then dropping back down onto Pete. He snaked a large hand between the two of them and wrapped it around both of their cocks, and then it was Pete’s turn to gasp at the contrast between the rough skin of Wade’s palm and the smooth skin of his dick as Wade began to jerk both of them frantically.

“Shit,” Pete cursed, hips thrusting up to meet Wade’s strokes. “You gotta slow down. I’m not going to last long if you…”

Wade seemed to double his efforts. “Don’t want you to last, baby boy. You can’t just… Fuck.” He gritted his teeth, finding his own composure. “You can’t just say shit like that and not expect me to want to make you come all over yourself.”

Pete whimpered. He let his head roll back and Wade took the invitation to bite down on his neck. Pete could feel the heat gathering in his core, building inside of him, reaching the point of no return. “‘M so close, Wade. Please…” he gasped out, then bit down on his lip to avoid screaming as he came over Wade’s hand and cock and both of their chests. 

“Oh fuck. Petey.” Wade’s hands and hips hadn’t stopped moving and it was too much. Pete was too sensitive and he had to will his body to hold still, to not try to squirm away as Wade kept fucking into his own hand, the friction of his movement like fire against Pete’s spent cock. Pete let out a small sob as he felt Wade’s body tense above him, then a shudder ran through both of them as Wade’s dick pulsed and he added to the mess on Pete’s chest. 

Pete grunted as Wade collapsed heavily on top of him, sandwiching their come between them. His head hung limply next to Pete’s cheek, and Pete twisted his head to kiss his ear. They lay there for a minute, Pete once again running his hands over Wade’s skin, until he felt cooling come beginning to trickle down his side. It was gross. “Damn it, get off of me,” he finally complained. “We’re going to make a mess of Matt’s couch.”

“Fuck him,” Wade muttered with a smile.

“Well, yeah. I’m sure he’d be less upset if that’s how the mess happened.”

Wade lifted up his head and smiled down at Pete. Pete didn’t care what anyone else said; Wade was stunning and that was all there was to it. Yeah, his skin had seen better days, but it was covering high cheekbones and an absolutely perfect jawline, the powerfully sculpted muscles of a greek god, and a heart of absolute gold. “He won’t let me say it yet,” Wade muttered sheepishly, avoiding direct eye contact with Pete. “But same.”

“Tell Yellow I love him too,” Pete said softly.

Wade made a disgusted face. “No you don’t. He’s an asshole.” 

“He’s a part of you, so I love him.” Pete nudged Wade with his shoulder, and Wade climbed off of him, peeling their bodies apart. He extended a hand to Pete and helped him stand up as well, and the two men headed to the shower. 

Wade was quick, cleaning up perfunctorily before excusing himself to go make breakfast. Pete, on the other hand, lingered under the hot water, closing his eyes and rolling out his neck and shoulders. He felt good. He felt surprisingly good, all things considered. Yes, they had gotten their asses handed to them the night before, and yes Matt was almost certainly not ok yet, but Pete was confident that things were going to get better. He was in love. How could anything go wrong?

He hummed to himself mindlessly as he washed - some dumb pop song that had come out when he was a kid. Wade had showed him a video of it on YouTube a few days prior, and it had been stuck in his head ever since. Wade swore up and down that the guy dancing to it looked ‘exactly like you, Webs!’ Pete wouldn’t go so far as to say exactly, but there definitely was a resemblance. This guy was a much better dancer than he was, though, doing flips and splashing in water on the stage. It was impressive, especially considering the dancing guy seemed to be wearing four inch heels while swinging around that ridiculous umbrella. 

Pete stood under the water for as long as he reasonably thought he could, then turned it off and grabbed one of Matt’s ridiculously soft and fluffy towels. He could smell coffee and bacon coming from the kitchen, and his stomach grumbled. 

When he opened the door, he saw that Matt was up, standing in the kitchen, dressed in loose black sweatpants and a black t-shirt, talking to Wade. His hair was sleep-mussed, the material of the shirt strained at his biceps, and Pete knew his heartbeat picked up a notch just from looking at him. 

As if on cue, Matt turned and walked over to him, running his hands over Pete’s body. He held Pete close, one finger dipping under the towel at his waist. “Thank you,” Matt said, tucking his nose into Pete’s neck and taking a deep breath.

“You’re welcome, Matt.” It was almost too much. Pete could feel his voice filling with emotion and he grabbed onto Matt’s hips for dear life. He couldn’t say it again, could he? That would be crazy. Matt wouldn’t react the same way Wade did. Matt was reasonable and responsible. He argued in a courtroom, not with the voices in his head. He didn’t want some kid telling him that he loved him after they’d been together less than a month. Pete needed to be reasonable and responsible too. “I… are you ready to talk about what happened?” he chickened out and said instead.

“Pants first,” Wade called out to him from the kitchen. “There’s an order to the universe, you know. It goes pants, and then coffee, and then talking. Sometimes coffee before pants. But never talking before coffee.”

Pete smiled, and he couldn’t keep the smile from widening as Matt brought a hand to his lips. He kissed Matt’s fingertips. “I hate to say it, but Wade has a good point. We have plenty of time.”  _ I’ll tell you later, when it’s more reasonable. We have plenty of time.  _

Matt nodded, smiling, and released Pete. Out of the corner of his eye, Pete watched him take a seat at the table. Pete ducked into the bedroom and changed quickly, pulling on jeans and a t-shirt. He wanted to leave the apartment today, head to the tower, and get his stuff. Was that rude?  _ Do I need to wait for Matt to invite me to move in? Can I ask?  _ There were now three dressers in the bedroom where two days ago there had only been one. Jessica and a large, silent man who hadn’t introduced himself had brought the other two by while Matt was at work… just carried them up the stairs, one each, and set them down in the bedroom as if the heavy pieces of furniture weighed nothing. As if they meant nothing. And Matt hadn’t said anything about it! Surely one was for him and one was for Wade, right? Matt never did anything half-assed. Pete hadn’t ever been offered a drawer before, and here he was getting a whole fucking dresser. And if he had a dresser… well, he wanted to fill it. 

Pete sighed. He would wait until Matt said something.

He walked back into the living room and joined Matt at the table, taking a sip of his coffee as he sat, admiring the bacon and eggs on the plate in front of him. Wade knew exactly how he liked his eggs and his coffee, and he smiled into the mug. His phone chirped and, without thinking, he pulled it out and opened his email, taking a bite of toast as he moved. 

His heart skipped a beat and then began pounding in his chest. His palms grew clammy. A tremor ran through his entire body.

“What is it?” Matt asked, obviously noticing his distress.

“I…” Pete’s voice got stuck in his throat. He couldn’t.  _ This couldn’t be happening. _ He passed the phone to Wade.

He didn’t hear what Wade was saying to Matt over the sound of the blood pounding in his own ears. He missed the explanation, only coming back to the conversation when he heard Wade say “They meant to send this to somebody else, I’m sure.”

“It doesn’t look like a mistake,” Pete said, barely aware of his own movements as he grabbed the phone back. He stared at the words again. “The letter is addressed to me. That’s my student ID. I was in that class last semester…”

“Have you ever done anything that might be confused…” Matt started to ask.

_ The fucking nerve! _ “If you’re about to ask me if I cheated in a biochem class, I’m going to be really fucking offended. Of course I didn’t, Matt. I wouldn’t, for one thing, and also that class was super easy.”

Matt nodded quickly. “Of course. Then it was a mistake. We can look up what the process for an appeal is online. There has to be a catalog posted. Or you can go straight to the school and talk to them. You can bring me with, if you want. Tell them I’m your lawyer.” 

Pete took a breath, calming himself. Of course Matt wasn’t implying he had cheated. He had to ask. He had to hear Pete say it. Matt would help him. Pete would show up at the school with his lawyer-boyfriend in tow and they would have to let him back in. It had to be a mistake. He didn’t cheat. He couldn’t be expelled. 

Wade had pulled out his own phone and held it out to Pete. It was showing ESU’s website and the process for filing an appeal. 

“So it looks like you have to write a letter, explaining what happened and that you didn’t plagiarize. That shouldn’t be too hard, especially because you didn’t plagiarize. And then they’ll review that. Look here, it says if it’s your first offense you shouldn’t even get in this kind of trouble. Like, you should get a zero in the class or something.” 

Pete opened his mouth to cut Wade off and remind him that he  _ shouldn’t _ get a zero in the class because he  _ didn’t do anything wrong _ , but Wade cut him off with a wave of his hand.

“I know you didn’t do shit, but I’m just saying this doesn’t make sense, right. Even if you did plagiarize, which you didn’t, it doesn’t make sense that they would send you this. It’s got to be a mistake. I think we should go to the Registrar’s office first, and make sure it wasn’t just a paperwork thing. Don’t you think, Matt? Matt?”

“Matt?” He had walked over to the door and was standing just outside the apartment. There was someone out there with him. Pete’s Spidey-Senses tingled. “What’s going on?”

There was no reply, and Pete cast a frantic look to Wade. He was just about to stand when the door opened and, instead of Matt, a woman walked in.

She was dressed all in white - a button down shirt, cleanly pressed white trousers, and sensible but clearly expensive shoes. Her hair and makeup were simple and flawless.

“Politeness and professionalism, Mr. Murdock,” she said over her shoulder, responding to something that Matt had said. Then, she locked eyes with Pete and smiled. A chill ran down Pete’s spine and the hairs on his arms stood on end. “Please, don’t stand.” Her voice had an accent that Pete couldn’t place. “It’s a pleasure to meet both of you. Mr. Parker,” she held out her hand to him.

Pete glanced quickly at Matt, who nodded, so he shook the woman’s outstretched hand.

“Mr. Wilson,” she said with another smile, and Wade shook her hand as well. 

“And you are?”

“I’m sorry,” she answered Wade, not looking at all sorry. “So very rude of me to not introduce myself. My name is Vanessa Fisk. I’m an associate of Mr. Murdock.”

Pete tried to choke back his gasp, covering it with a cough. He was sure she wasn’t fooled. No wonder Matt looked so shook.  _ What the fuck was Vanessa Fisk doing in their apartment? _

“I apologize for interrupting your morning,” she gestured at their breakfast. “No one understands more than me how important it is to have quality time with your loved ones. I just happened to be driving by when I got the strangest alert on my phone. You see, I’m on the conduct advisory board at Empire State University, which means I get updated on any potential concerns we might be seeing. I’m sure you could imagine my surprise when I read that Peter Parker, one of our top students, had been expelled for plagiarism. It didn’t make any sense. Why would the brightest mind of our time - with a higher SAT score than both Reed Richards and Tony Stark - cheat at something as simple as biochemistry.” She laughed, and it was a terrifying noise. “Well, simple for you, I assume.” She brushed a strand of hair out of Pete’s eyes, and it took all of his strength not to recoil from the touch. “It’s all well beyond my depth of course.”

“It’s a mistake,” Pete managed to grit out from behind clenched teeth.

“That was immediately my assumption.” She smiled again, magnanimously. “Well in that case, don’t worry about a thing, Mr. Parker. Enjoy your breakfast. I’ll see that this error gets resolved immediately. No reason for any stress to disturb this positively domestic moment. Family is the most important thing, wouldn’t you agree, Mr. Murdock?”

Matt didn’t answer.

She continued, not missing a beat. “The time we have with those we love is so precious. So  _ fragile _ . Seeing the three of you together truly warms my heart.” She turned, as if about to leave, then turned back and faced Matt. “By the way, I’ve never seen the inside of your apartment before. You were correct in your description of it. It is a bit…  _ austere.  _ I’ll have something sent over right away, with my compliments.” 

Pete watched her hips swish softly as she walked down the hallway and out the door. 

***

The three men sat in silence for a long time after that. Occasionally Wade would mutter something to himself, but Matt wasn’t listening. He wasn’t listening to Vanessa Fisk walk out of the building, either. He wasn’t listening to anything. 

Pete’s phone chirped. Matt didn’t need anyone to tell him what this email said. It had been a mistake. They were sorry. Everything had been resolved.

Fisk had fixed it.

Of course, she’d also caused it. 

Matt could feel Pete and Wade staring at him. The weight of their eyes was almost as heavy as the weight of what he’d done. 

Almost.

“She warned me last night,” Matt started slowly. “Maki Matsumoto. Lady Bullseye.” Matt laughed suddenly. It wasn’t funny. “She’s a lawyer. Did you know that? She demolished us in court yesterday, because kicking my ass when I'm Daredevil apparently isn’t enough. She’s got to get me at work and at home, too.”

_ This all was on him. _

_ He couldn’t bring them into it.  _

Matt turned to Pete. Wanted to pick up his hand. Didn’t. “When she attacked you in that alley, it was an  _ unfortunate coincidence _ . Her words, not mine. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time. But then Wade brought you to me…” Matt buried his head in his hands. Wade started to say something, but Matt held up a hand, stopping him. “They’re after me. Fisk. The Hand. They’re working together on something, and they want me to help them. If I don’t… Maki told me last night that they had ways to hurt you - ways I couldn’t imagine and couldn’t protect you from. She told me that…” Matt’s voice broke. He could feel the tears threatening to escape his eyes. “She told me that they had some sort of substance - a liquid - they would keep you in it and it would stop your body from regenerating. They’d let the cancer eat you alive. And you, Pete. That was Fisk showing exactly how she could hurt you. This was easy for her. A warning. They won’t stop. They’ll come after you - come after _Peter_. They’ll go after Aunt May.”

“Ok,” Pete said after a minute. “Ok. We need a plan.”

Matt shook his head. “There is no  _ we,  _ Pete. There can’t be. Don’t you get it? That’s what led us here in the first place. I’m the reason you’re not safe.”

Wade laughed. “Yeah, that’s garbage, Matty, and I think you know it. 

“It’s not garbage, Wade. And this isn’t a joke.” 

“Oh, of course it is,” Wade continued. “You think you’ve got some sort of monopoly on trouble? Itsy Bitsy and I are fully capable of getting ourselves into loads of trouble all on our own. But you think you need to take this all on yourself. Why? To protect us? No, daddy. We’re in this together.”

Matt stood and began to pace. “If we weren’t together, they’d leave you alone. That’s what Maki said to me last night.”

“No.” Pete’s voice was thick with held-back tears.

“They’re trying to isolate you, daddy. That’s all. They know that they can’t take us all together. That we’re too much for them.”

Matt could feel the panic rising in him. Wade didn’t understand. Pete didn’t understand. _ How could they? They’d never gone up against the Fisks. They don’t understand how they operate. That they won’t stop. That they always have another play. That they’re always three steps ahead. _

There was only one way to get out of this.

There was only one choice that would keep everyone safe.

Matt should’ve known, from the beginning, how this was all going to play out.

He didn’t get to keep nice things. He had to stop this now, before it got even worse. Before it got even harder to turn away. He had to stop this before one of them said something that couldn’t be taken back - something stupid like him telling them that he was already in love with them both. That he wanted them to move in with him. That he wanted to try to make a life together…   
  
Matt swallowed. He was a lawyer. He was good at lying, deflecting, bullshiting. He could make them believe it wasn’t because he was so scared.

_ Couldn’t he? _

“Listen!” Matt huffed. “It just… It doesn’t work, ok? I can’t… We’re too different. We’re too different, Wade.” He turned towards Pete. He wanted to reach out, to put a hand on his arm, to comfort him. He could taste the salt of the tears welling up in Pete’s eyes. He could hear his breathing starting to come rough. Hell, he could practically feel the kid’s heart breaking. “We’re all too different. It has to stop.”

Wade stared at him, dumbfounded. “The fuck you mean we’re too different? It doesn’t work? I know you’re blind but - bullshit. You really can’t see it? We’re perfect for each other. We complement each other. We fit, Matty. We fit together like three fucked up pieces to a completely fucked up puzzle. He’s neutral good. I’m chaotic neutral. And you, Darkness, you’re a chaotic dumbass.”

“Wade.” Matt’s voice was a growl. Warning. 

“And where is this coming from, anyway?” Wade continued without pause. “She scared you. I get it. She was intense and terrifying and I kind of wanted her to step on me. But it’s not like you to back down from a fight, daddy. Just because she’s scary doesn’t mean we’re going to roll over and show our bellies.”

“I’m not backing down!” Matt snapped. “But I can’t fight if I’m worried about keeping you two safe.”

“Keeping us…?!? Jesus, Matt. Did you forget who you were talking to? If anything, Pete and I should be the ones looking after you!”

Wade’s heart rate spiked the moment the words left his mouth. His arms flailed wildly, hands grasping at thin air, and Matt suspected he was trying to physically grab the words and pull them back into his mouth. It would have been adorable if Matt wasn’t furious.

The worst part was, he knew that Wade was right. They’d both be better off not having to look after him. Not having to clean up after his shit.

It just confirmed what he’d already decided.

“I’m going to go,” he said, retrieving his boots from the closet. Someone, he wasn’t sure if it was Pete or Wade, had been kind enough to make sure all of his things ended up exactly where they belonged - where he could find them - after he’d stumbled home incoherently the night before.  _ Just one more example of how he didn’t deserve either of them. _ He sat down and began to pull the boots on.

“Where are you going?” Pete sniffled. 

Matt finished tying his laces and stood, stepping close to Pete. He wanted to wrap his arm around his waist, to run his hands over his perfect skin, to press his lips up tight to his perfect lips and slip his tongue into his perfect mouth, to drop to his knees and worship his perfect cock. 

He wanted to, but he didn’t. He owed Pete at least that much. “Just out.” He dug his fingernails into his palms, straining to keep his hands steady by his side. “Clear my head.” 

“Matt,” Pete whispered. “Please. Please don’t do this.”

Matt squeezed his fists tighter, felt the warmth of his own blood tickle his palms. He did not step forward and press his nose into Pete’s neck. He did not splay his hand over Wades skin to feel the buzz of his cells regenerating. Pete had Wade. Wade had Pete. They had each other, and Matt… well Matt spent his life not having anybody and he was used to it. Stick was right; alone was better. That was just the way things needed to be. 

Without a word, Matt turned and walked out of the apartment, closing the door securely behind him. 

He was halfway down the stairs when he heard Pete start to cry. His steps faltered for just a second, but he didn’t stop walking. He couldn’t stop. Not if he wanted to protect them. There was a rustle as Wade pulled Pete into his arms and kissed the top of his head. 

“It’s ok baby boy. He just needs to figure some things out. We’ll be waiting, when he’s ready to come back.”

Matt knew the last words were meant for him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stupid Matt.
> 
> I hope all of you are staying healthy and sane!! Thank you so much for your comments, especially in this hard time. I personally am struggling right now. I teach college English and am a PhD student, so I am scrambling to move my life online while also suddenly being the full time caregiver and homeschooler for my two young boys who have had their school shut down. I know I am lucky because I, unlike many others out there, still have my job... but it's a lot. I've been feeling stressed and overwhelmed and unmotivated to write - which is not the right choice because writing keeps me sane. Each kind comment from you all is encouragement to get my butt back in there and write a few more words! 
> 
> Sorry for the vent session! I love all of you! Take care of yourself; it's so clear now, more than ever, that we're all in this together!
> 
> It's too big to post the image, but check out this timely and helpful tip from DD and maybe consider saying "hey" on Tumblr!
> 
> ETA: I cannot for the life of me make that hyperlink work and honestly I don't have the energy to fight with it today... so here: https://gwenpoolsaesthetic.tumblr.com/post/612508352885473280/daresplaining-id-excerpt-from-brubakers


	15. Fifteen

“Honey! I’m home!”

Pete jerked his head up from where it had been resting on a StarkPad, and his eyes darted to his clock. 3:27 am.  _ Shit.  _ He’d been dreaming about biomagnetic polymers, and he quickly moved to sketch down the image he’d seen in his dream before he lost it. If he introduced the copolymers to carboxylic acid and then…

“My sweet Petey Pie!” Wade called out again.

“I’m in here, Wade!” Pete answered, not looking up from where he was frantically scrawling on the pad. 

“Baby boy!” Pete still didn’t look up, but Wade’s voice was closer now. In the room. He had to get this onto the pad before it vanished from his brain. He scrawled frantically. “So smart. Always working. Shut up! Yes, I know! Jesus fuck!! You finish what you’re doing, schnookums. I’ll make you something to eat and then we can go to bed.”

“Ok, thank you. I’ll just be two more minutes”

“Hmm… whatever you say, babycakes.”

Fifteen minutes later, Wade set a plate of finger foods on Pete’s desk, kissed him on the top of his head, and walked out without saying a word.   


“I LOVE YOU!” Pete shouted after him, eyes focused on his sketch.

“FEEL FREE TO SHOW ME HOW MUCH WHEN YOU’RE DONE!” Wade shouted back. 

Pete grinned, picked up one of the apple slices from his plate, and kept working. 

Finally, Pete’s hand stilled. He looked down at the pad.  _ Tony is going to flip out. I am a fucking genius.  _ He stood and stretched. “Jarvis,” he said. “Can you please ask Tony to look at that when he has time?”

“Of course, sir,” the pleasant British voice replied. “And might I add, very well done. Truly a brilliant design.”

“Thanks, J.” Pete looked at his clock.  _ 4:33. Oops. _ “Wade,” he called out softly as he stepped out of his office and into the hallway. “Are you asleep?”

“Of course not, Itsy!” Wade called back from the living room. 

Pete smiled sleepily and started to walk towards him. Tony had set them up in one of the biggest apartments in the tower - five bedrooms and four baths. It felt obscene sometimes, just moving around in it, padding down the dark wooden floors of the long hallway that separated the bedroom that Pete had turned into his office to the open concept living room and kitchen. Tony hadn’t been shy about why, either. Pete could hear him now, voice pinched, a hint of disdain seeping into his perfectly practiced indifference:  _ Just take the apartment for my sake, ok? At least then I can pretend you two are sleeping in separate bedrooms.  _

“I’m so sorry. I really thought that was only going to take a few minutes. I just had this idea for a way to strengthen the…” Pete cut off abruptly as he turned the corner and saw Wade sitting on their sofa. “Holy shit what happened? Are you ok? Oh my god why didn’t you say anything?”

Any thoughts of sleep vanished from Pete’s head as he rushed to Wade and knelt down on the ground next to him. The merc was still wearing his full Deadpool suit, minus the mask, and was reclined on top of a small tarp that he’d draped over the couch. His entire suit was drenched in blood. There was a huge gash across his chest and two more on his left thigh. 

“Petey, breathe,” Wade said, taking Pete’s face in his hands. His hands that smelled like blood. “Probably only a third of this is mine and, look,” he prodded at his chest through the gaping fabric of his suit, scratching the dried blood away. There was a thin scar that Pete recognized as new, but only because he was so familiar with Wade’s body. Anyone else wouldn’t even be able to notice. “I’m fine, baby boy. All better. No reason to worry. Now, tell me all about your science.”

Pete shook his head and sniffled. He lay his head on Wade’s thigh. It felt warm and wet against his cheek. “You should have said something. I would have sat with you while it healed. I know it hurts.”

Wade shrugged and began to run his fingers through Pete’s hair. “It was mostly all done fixing itself by the time I got home, and you were so busy being smart. You’re so cute when you’re smarter than everyone else. Which is always, by the way.”

Pete made a soft whimpering noise and rubbed his face against Wade’s leg. He was supposed to be comforting Wade, not the other way around. “I shouldn’t have made you wait.”

“Want to make it up to me?”

Without lifting his head, Pete nodded.

“Help me clean up?”

Pete looked up. Wade’s pupils were blown wide, and the lust on his face was abundantly clear as he practically leered down at Pete.

“You look so good down there on your knees, baby boy. Couldn’t stop thinking about you all night. Yellow kept saying I should stop fighting and come home, or at least jerk off, but I knew you were working and I didn’t want to interrupt. And I didn’t want to do anything without you, either. Wanted to save it for you. Want you inside of me tonight. Want you to fuck me until I come on your cock.”

“Oh shit.” Pete’s voice squeaked. “Yeah, ok.” He stood up, and looked down at Wade again in concern. “You sure you’re ok?”

“197% positive, Petey-kins.”

“And them?”

“Who?”

“The people whose blood you’re covered in. Do I need to worry about them?”

Wade shrugged. “Nah. Just some thugs up to no good. Too dumb to be organized. There was a bunch of them, which is why so much blood. But I didn’t unalive anyone, I swear! I was… um… I forget where exactly. By the river. I broke up some sort of gun deal. Anyway I broke all their legs so they couldn’t run away, and then called the cops. Do we really need to be talking about this now? They’re not dead. Tell me I did good.” 

“Wade.” Pete’s voice was stern. “If all you did was break their legs, then why are you covered in their blood?”

“I mean, I stabbed them just a little too. But nowhere that they’re going to die from it probably. I was careful!!”

“Well in that case, seeing as you were _careful_ …” Pete grabbed Wade around the waist and hoisted him easily up over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. 

Wade made an awkward yelping noise and then giggled as Pete carried him all the way back down the hallway towards the bedroom that they actually used for sleeping, his large frame draped over Pete’s smaller one. “Gotta say I like the view from here,” Wade said, reaching down and grabbing Pete’s ass with both of his hands. 

“Stop that!” Pete slapped Wade with one hand, holding on to his legs with the other to keep him balanced. “You’re going to make me drop you.”

“My big strong Spider-Baby would never in a million years drop me. I’m not even scared. But spank me again anyway, please.”

“You’re incorrigible,” Pete said with a scowl, but he slapped Wade again anyway. This time, Wade gasped and a tremor ran through his entire body. Pete stopped walking. “What was that about?”

“Nothing. It was nothing.”

“Didn’t sound like nothing.” Pete brought his hand down again, hard, in the same place, right over Wade’s hole. Wade groaned. “Wade, my love. Are you wearing a plug?”

Wade was silent.

“Wade…”

“Lots of things are possible, you know. We’re part of a multiverse now, after all. Anything that can happen, does happen, in a parallel timeline…”

“Ok… But in this timeline, are you wearing a plug?”

Pete could feel Wade nod across his back.

“Why…? I mean, if you were going to take your pants off to put the plug in, why didn’t you just change your clothes?”

Wade muttered something unintelligible.

“Holy shit. Wade. Are you… have you been wearing it all night?”

“Couldn’t stop thinking about you,” Wade whispered, and wiggled slightly in Pete’s firm grasp.

“Fuck.” Pete walked through their bedroom into the ensuite bath. Still holding onto Wade, he reached in and turned on the shower. He set Wade down on the vanity, and quickly began to strip him out of tattered remains of his suit. 

Wade let Pete tug his shirt off. He hung his head, peering up at Pete with a sly grin, and shifted his hips on the counter. “Wanna see it? I got it special just for you.”

“Well you better not be getting it special for somebody else!” Pete smiled back. He hopped up onto the counter, sitting next to Wade, and bumped their shoulders together. “Go on.” 

Wade jumped down and began to sway his hips in a mock strip-tease. He hooked his thumbs into his waistband, looked back over his shoulder at Pete, and dropped his pants. Then, leaning his arms against the shower door, he pushed back his hips as if he were presenting to Pete.

Pete tried not to laugh when he saw the base of the plug - a red, silicone spider symbol. “Where on earth did you find that?”

Wade pouted. “I had it specially made, baby boy. Don’t you like it?”

“Oh, Wade.” Pete jumped down off of the counter and moved towards him. Sliding in between Wade’s body and the wall, Pete took his boyfriend’s head in his hands. “I love it. You just surprised me is all. I wasn’t expecting that and I got a little embarrassed.”

Wade grunted.

“Hey now.” Pete kissed him again. “I shouldn't have laughed. I messed up. I’m sorry. How can I make it up to you?”

“Show me how much you love it?”

“Mmmm…” Pete leaned into the kiss. His hands drifted down Wade’s frame, one finding Wade’s chest and the other finding the plug. Tapping it once, Pete breathed: “Love it. Love you.” He pushed Wade gently into the shower. “So grateful you’re mine and I’m yours.”

After a few minutes of kissing under the falling water, Pete forced himself to break away. He squeezed some lavender scented soap into Wade’s favorite pink loofa, and began to wash every trace of dirt and blood from Wade’s body. He lingered sometimes, hands tracking along muscles and scars alike, and when he dropped down to wash the lower half of Wade’s body, he once again leaned his cheek against a strong thigh. “Every day I’m so thankful for you,” Pete said, as he began to slowly work the plug in and out of Wade’s body. “Don’t know what I would do without you.”

“You’ll never need to find out, baby boy.” Wade’s eyes were already going hooded with pleasure as Pete continued to work the plug inside him. “You’ve got me caught in your web.” 

Pete blinked up at Wade through the falling water. “Do you know what spiders do to things they’ve caught in their web?” 

“Yeah. But you’d better show me anyway.” 

Wade’s fingers fisted into Pete’s hair as Pete wrapped his lips around Wade’s cock, closing his eyes and feeling the pleasant stretch of his jaw as he slowly pushed himself forward, taking Wade as deeply as he could. One hand gripped tightly to Wade’s thigh, while the other continued to work the plug in his ass. Around them, the water from the shower fell in huge, hot droplets. Pete hollowed his cheeks and hummed, and was rewarded by Wade tightening his grip in his hair. 

“Not too much,” Wade choked out. “Told you. I want you inside of me when I come.” His actions belied his words, though, and the hand in Pete’s hair held firm as Wade began to move, fucking into his mouth. “Been thinking about this all night. All the ways we fit together so perfectly…” Wade gave three short thrusts and then stilled. Pete could feel him struggling to regain control, and after a minute, he released Pete’s hair. Pete slid off his cock with a popping noise. “Sorry. Got carried away.”

“I liked it,” Pete replied, finally removing the plug completely and then licking up Wade’s chest as he stood, flicking his tongue over Wade’s nipple as he licked past it. He reached around Wade to turn off the shower. “Come’on.”

The two dried quickly, and then it was Wade’s turn to scoop Pete up. Pete wrapped his legs around Wade’s waist and allowed himself to be carried into the bedroom where Wade dumped him on the bed unceremoniously. Pete scrambled up until his head was propped up on the pillows as Wade retrieved the lube from the bedside table. “How do you want me?”

“Just exactly like you are, baby boy. You ok with that?”

“Mm hmm,” Pete agreed. He wanted to touch himself but resisted. Instead, he waited as Wade poured far too much lube into his own hand, then carefully crawled one-handed to where Pete was lying on the bed. 

Pete could feel a nervous energy starting to settle over him. He tried to relax back into the pillows, closing his eyes as Wade wrapped his hand around him and began to slick him up, but all too soon he knew it wasn’t enough. He needed more. He hooked his hands under Wade’s armpits and hauled the merc up to him, pressing their mouths together in a violent clash of teeth and tongues. 

“Impatient tonight, aren’t we?”

“Yeah.” Pete didn’t even try to quip. “Yeah, I am. Something feels… I don’t know. I need you, is all. Please?”

“Oh, Petey.” Wade kissed him gently on the forehead. “Is this what you want? We could do it the other way? Tell me what you need.”

Pete shook his head. “This. Please, Wade. I need…”

“Yeah, baby boy. I know what you need.” Wade lined himself over Pete’s cock and began to slowly press down. 

“Wade,” Pete gasped. He reached out, grabbed on to Wade’s hips. 

“Shhh… I’ve got you, sweetheart. It’s ok. I’m right here.” Wade kept lowering himself until their bodies were flush together. He leaned forward, lowering himself towards Pete until his arms bracketed Pete’s head and his lips gently brushed Pete’s lips. Slowly, so slowly, he began to rock his hips. 

It wasn’t enough. Wade is wonderful and perfect and everything Pete has ever wanted, but it’s not enough. It’s never enough. Two months later, and it’s still not enough, not when it’s just the two of them. Not when they’re missing… Pete pushed the thought out of his mind, grabbed onto Wade’s waist, and used his spider-strength to flip them. 

Beneath him now, Wade moaned and arched his back as Pete picked up his speed, pulling almost all the way out to thrust back in harshly. It’s not like him. It’s not like them. Yeah, sometimes they play a little rough, but not like this. Pete wondered if he could make Wade cry. He considered the possibility of asking Wade to make him cry later. He could use a good cry. 

Wade wrapped his legs around Pete’s waist and squeezed tight, pulling him in closer as Pete picked up his speed. Wade brought his hands up, bracing himself against the headboard. The headboard thunked against the wall as Pete drove into him with his enhanced strength and, for just a moment, Pete recognized the benefit of spreading everyone out in the tower the way that Tony did. Wade's eyes rolled back and shut as Pete slid his hand between their bodies and wrapped it around Wade’s cock. “Fuck, Petey. Jesus Christ, yes!” Wade shouted, heels digging into Pete’s back and a stream of profanities falling from his lips as he came between them. 

Pete didn’t slow down. If anything, he picked up his speed, hammering into Wade. He could feel his own orgasm starting to build, deep in the base of his spine, heat pooling around his center. He pushed forward, folding Wade practically in half. He vaguely heard himself gasp out Wade’s name as his climax hit. His fingers squeezed too tight on Wade’s hips. His vision greyed out at the edges. Finally he fell forward, allowing the full weight of his body to collapse down onto the man beneath him. 

Wade grunted and held him tightly. “Feel better?”

Pete shook his head yes, then no, then yes again. He sniffled. “Did you see him?”

Wade was silent for a minute. “Yeah,” he finally answered, voice barely above a whisper. “How did you know?”

“Your suit was all cut up, which means swords not guns, which usually means the Hand.” Pete adjusted their bodies slightly, rolling to the side so he could tuck himself into Wade’s embrace. “How did he look?”

“Not great. I mean, he’s still rocking that black suit so his ass looks fucking amazing, but outside of that…”

Pete lifted up his head and stared at Wade. The merc’s features were uncharacteristically serious.

“I didn’t lie, baby boy. There were five guys doing some sort of arms deal. I went to break it up. That’s when the Hand attacked and Matty… He showed up a few minutes later. They had me surrounded. It could have been a lot worse than it was and he… he told them to stop. And they listened. I think they were following his orders.”

Pete shook his head frantically. “That’s not possible. You were confused. It had to be something else.”

“Maybe,” Wade responded. His voice was sad. “I didn’t talk to him. It could have been anything. But I think… I think he needs us, Petey.”

“Yeah…” Pete’s eyes were growing heavy. His brain felt like it was packed in cotton. “It’s time. We’ll come up with a plan in the morning.”

“It is morning.”

“Oh. Right. Well…” Pete laid his head back down on Wade’s chest, and sighed as Wade wrapped him up tightly in his strong arms. “We’ll come up with a plan in the afternoon, then.”

“Ok.” Wade kissed the top of his head. “I’m sure we can figure something out. You are a fucking genius, after all.” 

Pete wanted to smile. To tell Wade that he was only a genius when it came to biochemical engineering. To tell him that he had no fucking clue how they were going to save their boyfriend. 

He wanted to, but he was already asleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was afraid this wasn't going to happen, BUT HERE IT IS!!!! I actually thought this was going to be a funny, fluffy, "Wade and Pete getting into antics in the tower" chapter but... It will happen eventually! It has to. I have all these dumb little scenes of nonsense drafted and nowhere to put them. 
> 
> Hope everyone is hanging in there ok. I think we are starting to find our groove over here in the "Poole" household. My goal is to keep posting on Fridays, but obviously teaching and my own schoolwork and making sure my kids don't watch Frozen 2 on repeat for 14 hours a day has to take priority. Love to you all!!! Drop me a note and let me know what you think. <3


	16. Sixteen

Across town Matt was awake, and not by choice. But it was Sunday morning, and his current living space was anything but quiet on Sundays. It wasn’t that he couldn’t go home. He could. He has. He’s listened to Maggie’s advice and tried to go back to his life as much as possible. He’s working and he’s out fighting… He’s doing all the things that need to be done. He’s going out for drinks at Josie’s on Friday nights with Foggy and Karen, but comes up with excuses when they ask him to join them for dinner on Saturdays or brunch on Sundays. 

Fortunately, his life comes with built-in excuses. 

He knows they’re all assuming that he just doesn’t want to hang out with Frank, which he would admit is not patently false, and he’s comfortable letting them believe it. But the truth is, he’s more concerned about seeing Clint. 

Clint would want to help. He’d think that Matt would want to hear about Pete and Wade… not a lot. Just a little. Just enough to know that they were doing ok, so that Matt wouldn’t worry about them. But he doesn’t want to hear that they’re ok. He knows they’re ok. He knows too much. He knows that they’re living in Avengers Tower together. He already knows they go out patrolling together most nights. He already knows that they walk together during the day holding hands and laughing, and that even when there’s just one of them they still smell like the other. He already knows that they’re taking care of each other the way he never would have been able to take care of them. That they’re taking care of each other the way they deserve to be taken care of. 

That they’re building a home together. A life together.

They hadn’t been together long enough for that to hurt Matt. And besides, he didn’t need those things. He had been raised not to need those things. 

_ Surrounding yourself with soft stuff isn’t life, it’s death.  _

_ Pain is what keeps you going. _

He’s doing fine. He is. He just… 

He can’t be  _ there. _

Not when, no matter how many times he opens the windows to air the apartment out, no matter how many times he washes the sheets or scrubs the floors, no matter how many times he tells himself that it can’t… that it doesn’t make sense… that it’s all in his head, no matter how many times… it still smells like vanilla and cinnamon and silk and gunpowder. It's been almost two months, and it still smells like them.

So he sleeps in the basement of a church which… well, it’s not like it’s the first time. 

It’s comforting, if nothing else. A little surreal, but familiar. Like spending the night in your childhood room as an adult. If Matt had a normal childhood and a normal life and a normal mother, there would probably be trophies lining shelves, posters of his teenage crushes hanging on the walls, Captain America sheets on the bed. 

Instead he had damp stone walls, the warmth of flickering candles, and the shuffling of so many feet. Hymns being sung off key far too early in the morning. The smell of too many people and the sounds of too many prayers that will never be answered. He was in God’s house, but he knew first hand that there was a devil living in the basement.

It was possible that he was also just a little depressed.

Running into Wade the night before hadn’t helped. 

None of it should have gone down like that. He’d been doing so well. He’d had things under control - The Hand, Matsumoto, even Fisk. It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t ideal. But he was  _ handling  _ it. And then last night…

Avoiding Pete and Wade wasn’t hard… not strictly speaking. Staying away from them was quite possibly the hardest thing he’d ever done in his entire life, but avoiding them was easy. They were both so fucking loud that he could hear them coming from at least six blocks away. All he had to do was disappear into the shadows and Pete would swing overhead or Wade would jog past, neither of them any wiser. 

One night, a few weeks ago, he’d smelled them before he heard them. They were lying on a rooftop, Pete tucked into the crook of Wade’s arm, an empty bag of what had been tacos at their feet. They weren’t doing anything. They weren’t talking. They weren’t kissing… They were just lying there, holding each other, looking up at the sky and all Matt wanted was to lie down and join them. To rest. To be held again. To be able to give some of it up and find a moment of quiet peace.

He’d messed up that night too - gotten close enough that Pete had sat up. Matt felt the familiar tingle of the chill that ran down Pete’s spine, the hair on his arms standing on end. Matt knew what that meant even if Pete didn’t realize what was causing it. It meant he was a risk to them. He was  _ dangerous. _

And wasn’t that the fucking truth.

So he’d retreated into the shadows. He’d pointedly not listened to and not felt any more of what was happening on that rooftop, and instead he’d gone and found Clint. Together, the two of them had hunted down some Russian gangsters that were terrorizing Clint’s apartment building. They’d gotten their asses handed to them, but it had been nice to fight alongside a friend again.

Neither of them had gotten seriously hurt, which was good. Matt wasn’t quite sure how he would have dealt with it if something had actually happened to Clint. As it was, he felt pretty shitty knowing that Clint was still out fighting these guys when he could snap his fingers and have them eliminated. 

And there was the rub. Matt was doing more good than he’d ever done before as Daredevil, and he couldn’t tell anyone. He couldn’t use his new-found resources to help the friends who had helped him when he had been all alone. Because what do you say?  _ Oh hey. You remember those evil, mystical, immortal ninjas that have been my sworn enemy since before I even knew what I was fighting against? Yeah, they work for me now. But don’t worry. You know that megalomaniacal crime lord who tried to have me killed on multiple occasions and then who I successfully got sent to prison? His wife is bankrolling me. It’s cool. I’ve totally got it under control. _

He didn’t want to imagine what Pete would say… What any of the Avengers would say. Fuck, he really didn’t want to imagine what Bucky would say - the lecture he’d get about selling his soul to an evil organization. But this wasn’t like that. It wasn’t like Bucky and Hydra. Bucky had been taken, against his will, without his knowledge or his ability to control anything. He’d been manipulated and forced and brainwashed. On the other hand, Matt was in charge. He’d made the decision of his own free will, and was in complete control of his actions. He was calling the shots. This was not the same. 

Matt shuddered. It was probably worse.

But what other choice did he have?

On second thought, Bucky wouldn’t say anything. He’d just beat the shit out of him. 

And not in the fun way. 

But he was doing good from the inside. He was. And he had it under control. He did.

Except, apparently, when he didn’t.

Last night was bad. He acknowledged that. He could think about it rationally, deconstruct it, and map out exactly where it went wrong. He could use that knowledge to do better in the future. He could and he would.

He couldn’t send Hand soldiers ahead without him. He saw that now. He’d gotten the tip on Turk from Luke. Turk had somehow gotten ahold of some AIM weapons and was looking to sell them. The trade was supposed to go down in Hell’s Kitchen by the docks, and Luke wanted to know if Matt wanted to join him. Matt said he’d handle it alone; that it was easier that way. Luke seemed miffed at the brushoff, but he got over it fairly quickly.

Luke had a lot going on these days himself.

But then he’d gotten held up talking to Matsumoto about  _ the future of the Hand,  _ like he gave a fuck. He was only there to keep Fisk away from Pete and Wade, and if he could help his city in the process… well that was just an added bonus. So he’d sent the team ahead. He didn’t want to miss their window of opportunity.

When he arrived, Turk and his gang were lying on the ground, screaming in agony, legs broken. Definitely not the Hand’s MO, although he had thankfully gotten them to stop killing… or at least to stop on missions he was directly involved in. They all still smelled like blood. It was a work in progress. Things weren’t fully where he wanted them to be, but they were improving. 

He had it under control. 

Except he definitely didn’t.

They had Wade surrounded and Wade… God,  _ Wade _ . Everything about him was perfection. He was joking and laughing, running off his mouth like he wasn’t surrounded by fifteen assassin ninjas, and Matt was torn between wanting to run away and hide in shame or kneel at the merc’s feet and beg for forgiveness. For absolution.

Instead, he’d given the command to retreat and the Hand had followed without question. They were good soldiers. But Wade… Wade had called after him, begged him to stay, begged him to come back. Even when he was blocks away, he could still hear Wade pleading.

_ “I wouldn’t ask for me, Daddy. I wouldn’t. I’m used to being left behind. But Petey… he needs you. He misses you so much. It’s killing me to see him like this. Please, Darkness. For him. Whatever all this is, we can get through it together. We can fix it together. We can do anything together. Please, Matty. Just come home.” _

Matt was pretty sure he hadn’t cried that hard since he’d lost Elektra. 

***

Wade stood at one end of the long conference table, the faces of the Earth’s greatest heroes staring back at him.

_ [Ok. Be strong. Be confident. Be commanding. You’ve got this!] _

_ Excuse you. What now?  _

_ [Show them who’s boss. Don’t be a jerk about it or anything, but be confident. This is your mission. I have faith in you.] _

_ Since when? _

_ [Listen, I know I give you grief sometimes, but this is a big deal. We’re in this together right?] _

_ Are we? _

_ [Fuck yeah, man! I’ve got your back! Now give ‘em hell!] _

_ How… how do I do that? _

_ [Start out by taking command of the room. Make sure everyone is present and accounted for. Let them see that you are in control of this meeting.] _

_ I… you’re sure? _

_ [Absolutely. Would I lead you astray?] _

Wade cleared his throat. From across the room, Natasha narrowed her eyes at him. “Ok. Alright let’s get started here! Should we take roll?”

“Yeah, we don’t usually…” Sam started.

“I’ve got this, Feather Face. Alright.” He pointed at Steve Rogers. “Stars and Stripes Forever?” 

Steve looked wide eyed around the room, as if searching for help. 

“Stars and Stripes Forever is present.” Wade continued. “Murder Cyborg?” he pointed at Bucky.

Bucky stared at him, expressionless.

Wade swallowed hard. “Murder Cyborg is also present. Jesus, don’t you guys know how to take roll call?” 

“Like I said, we don’t tend to…”

“And I said shut it,” Wade cut Sam off again. “Fine, I can handle this on my own.” He began to work his way around the room, starting with Clint, who was sitting on Bucky’s left. “Cupid is here, Hammer Time is here, Shrinky-Dinks is here. Good to see you again, by the way. Thanks for coming all the way from San Fran. How’s the weather back home?”

“It’s good, man.” Scott smiled at him. “Good to see you, too!”

“My journey was from much further than your San Francisco,” Thor objected, a confused expression on his face. “Why do I not merit a thanks for my troubles?”

“That’s enough chit-chat, ThunderCats. This is urgent business. We need to stay focused.” He continued around the table, pointing at each Avenger in turn. “We all know Chickadee is here, cause he won’t stop his chirping.”

Sam raised one hand, palm up, and shook his head in the universal sign for “what the fuck?”

Wade looked at Natasha, who arched an eyebrow at him. “The always impeccable Black Widow is here. Thank you for coming, and feel free to step on me any time.” Her face stayed completely neutral, but Wade knew she was smiling on the inside. She loved him. It was fine. He continued, gesturing in turn at the last three men at the table. “Jolly Green Giant, Tin Man, Bruce Wayne.” 

“Who?” Tony asked, confused.

“Nothing, it’s not important. Anyway… Thank you for joining me today. Avengers… ASSEMBLE!!!”

“Yeah, about that…” Bruce started to say.

“You don’t need to say it when we’re already here…” Steve muttered at the same time.

Both men were cut off when the door to the conference room opened.

“Wade, what the hell are you doing?” Peter’s voice was confused but not angry. 

“Oh, hey Petey-Pie. You told me to gather the team so I…” Wade saw panic in Pete’s eyes. Embarrassment, maybe.

The voice in his head cackled. 

_ Did I… Did I fuck this up? _

_ [Of course you did! It was hilarious!] _

_ But you said… _

_ [Yeah, and you believed it! Like the Avengers would ever listen to you!!] _

_ Oh shit. Oh fucking shit.  _ Wade’s eyes were huge, trained on Pete. Pete was hurrying towards him, herding him to the far corner of the room, whispering at him in a high pitched and slightly frantic voice.

“What are you doing?” he asked again.

“You said we should ask for help. I thought I…”

“I meant Foggy and Karen,” Pete interrupted him with a hiss. “Those Defender guys. Clint. Maybe Frank. Not…” he looked out at the room of Avengers, all of whom were staring back at them.

“Frank who?” Tony asked, his eyes narrowing. 

“That’s not what’s important...” Natasha interrupted him, and Wade felt Pete relax slightly next to him. The reprieve was momentary, however, as Natasha finished, “...right now. Obviously we’ll need to discuss who Peter has been choosing to associate with at a later date. For now, Mr. Wilson, please continue. You were about to tell us that Matthew needs our help.” 

_ [Mr. Wilson? She knows our name!!!] _

_ Holy shit. She totally wants us. _

_ [I mean, probably not? But you’d better get it pre-cleared with the Spider-Kid just in case!!] _

“Uh… yeah,” Wade choked out as eloquently as he could manage, staring out at the Avengers. 

The Avengers stared right back at him.

“So… um… Matty fucked up bad and he needs our help.”

“And?” Natasha prompted after a moment’s silence.

Wade blinked back at her, face vacant except for panic. “Yeah, that’s all I’ve got.”

Natasha let out a small sigh and shook her head. She stood up languidly and stalked towards Wade.

_ [KISS HER!!!! THIS MIGHT BE OUR ONLY CHANCE!!!!] _

_ What? No. We can’t do that. We’re with Pete and we didn’t ask if that would be ok and… _

_ [Pay attention!!] _

Natasha was staring at him. 

“How you doin’?”

She rolled her eyes and gestured towards the table. “I said, you can take a seat, Mr. Wilson.”

Wade quickly scrambled, grabbing an extra chair from the side of the room and squeezing it in between Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes.  "She's amazing, right? Like I totally want her to take one of those stilettos and step on my nu--"

Bucky clamped his metal hand over Wade’s mouth. “Do NOT finish that sentence,” he hissed.

“Oh god. Choke me, please.” He turned to Steve. “Does he choke you with the metal hand? Does he  _ touch  _ you with it? Can I watch?”

“Wade!” He felt the thunk of webs hitting the back of his chair, and then he was being rolled backwards as Pete pulled him away from the two supersoldiers.

“As I was saying,” Natasha continued calmly from the front of the room, “Matthew needs our help. For those of you unaware,” she glanced around the room, eyes lingering momentarily on Thor, Scott, Sam, Rhodey, and Bruce, “Matthew Murdock is Daredevil. I hope I don’t need to impress on any of you how important it is to keep that information inside this room.” There were nods of agreement and mumbles of surprise. Bruce started to ask a question, but Natasha held out her hand, silencing him. 

“Yes, he’s actually blind. From what I’ve been able to determine, Daredevil joined the Hand approximately two months ago, and since that time has been working directly with Maki Matsumoto - aka Lady Bullseye - and Vanessa Fisk as a part of a leadership triad for that organization. Fisk is using her and her husband’s amassed wealth to fund the Hand and is providing direction from the top, Matsumoto appears to be something of a hub - coordinating with international cells, and Matthew…” Wade watched as a crack appeared in Natasha’s armor for the briefest of seconds before she regained her composure. “...It would seem Matt is serving as general for all of the Hand’s US forces, the majority of which are focused in New York and LA. I haven’t discovered why exactly he made this choice,” her eyes flickered briefly to Wade and Pete at the back of the room, “but I have reason to believe that Matt was initially coerced to join through the use of threats to people he cares about.”

Wade reached out and took Pete’s hand in his own, interlacing their fingers together. Pete smiled at him softly before turning his attention back to Natasha, who was still talking at the front of the room. Wade tuned her out, choosing instead to commit to memory once again the wave of Pete’s hair, the slope of his nose, the cut of his jawline. His baby boy was beautiful, damn it, and his memory was shit so he needed to take in the sights as often as he could.

_ [Shouldn’t you be paying attention, though?] _

_ Nah. This is just exposition stuff anyway. Matty’s working with the Hand, he’s totally out of control, he probably thinks he can’t ask for help because he’s a big fuckin’ martyr, blah blah blah. If we gloss over it, then sweet Gwenny-Poo can spend more time writing smut. _

_ [Why doesn’t baby boy ever kiss us upside down?] _

_ Why would he? _

_ [Spider-Man is always kissing people upside down. That’s like his signature move.] _

_ Nah. That was just Tobey Maguire’s signature move, I think. I don’t think our baby has ever… _

_ [And Andrew Garfield.] _

_ Yeah? I never saw those... _

_ [It doesn’t seem like it would really work. Especially if it was raining. Water would totally go up your nose.] _

_ You’ve certainly thought about this a lot. _

_ [Do you think Pete would web us to a wall upside down and fuck us like that?] _

_ Why would he do that? _

_ [For fun. You should ask him to do that. For me.] _

_ Why would I ask him to do anything for you? I hate you. _

_ [Why do you hate me? What have I ever done to you??] _

_ Well you just made me embarrass myself in front of the Avengers. _

_ [Ok, but outside of that.] _

_ Yesterday you tricked me into eating an Asgardian chili pepper.  _

_ [Ok, but outside of that!!] _

_ Last month you convinced me to climb into the drum of a cement mixer...] _

_ [OK, BUT OUTSIDE OF…] _

“Mr. Wilson?”

“Hmm…?” Wade’s eyes snapped up. 

“I asked if you had anything to add.”

“Oh… uh… nope. You were perfection, as always.”

Natasha huffed at him, but Wade knew he could see the smile under her impeccable mask of neutrality. “Then you agree with my plan?”

_ Ah, fuck. _

_ [I told you you should have been paying attention.] _

_ Go fuck yourself. _

_ [Make Petey do it. Preferably when we’re upside down!] _

“Yup. I totally agree. 100%. Best plan ever. Greatest strategic mind of the past century, no doubt about that.”

“Hey,” Steve complained from across the room.

_ Oh, right. Totally forgot about that one.  _ “Anyway… let’s all go do the thing! Avengers, unassemble!” 

Sam muttered something about “not how any of this works” under his breath and the room began to empty. Bucky glared daggers at Wade as he ushered Steve past, his metal hand in the small of Steve’s back. As she exited the room, Natasha looked back over her shoulder and winked at Wade.

“Holy shit, did you see that?”

“See what?” Pete was watching Wade with a careful expression on his face.

“Natasha Romanoff - THE Black Widow - just winked at me.”

“No she didn’t.”

Wade clutched his chest. “Petey-Pie she TOTALLY did. You know I love you, and you and Matty are the only ones for me, but I need you to understand that that woman has the total hots for me and there’s only so much I can do to resist…”

“Please stop talking,” Tony interrupted. “I was about to pay you a complement and I absolutely cannot if you finish that sentence, got it?”

Wade looked over both of his shoulders frantically, searching for anyone else that the man could be talking to, before looking back and meeting Tony’s eyes. “Who, me?”

Tony sighed. “Please don’t make this harder than it already is.”

“That’s what she said!”

“You know what, never mind.” Tony started to walk away.

“No, wait! I’m sorry,” Wade moved quickly to intercept him. “Please tell me what you wanted to say.”

Tony rolled his eyes and crossed his arms in front of his chest. He stared at Wade a moment, assessing him. Finally, he spoke. “I know it was probably hard to call us all here today, but it was the right choice. We all care about Matt. He’s done a lot for the team, and we want to support him. I was surprised you agreed to Natasha’s plan. It takes a lot of courage and wisdom to agree to something like that. I’m not sure if I could have done it, if it was Pepper in Matt’s place.” He brought his hand firmly to Wade’s shoulder, squeezed it tightly, then flinched and pulled away. “Don’t be a stranger, ok? You guys hide out in your apartment all the time. Get out a bit. Explore the tower. Join us for movie night. Use the common rooms. Have Pete show you where the gym is. That sort of stuff. We’ll get this handled.”

Wade stared at him blankly. 

“Well,” Tony brushed his hands together. “Good talk. See you around, then. Kid?” he looked over to Peter who was watching the exchange with rapt attention. “Keep him out of trouble, ok?”

Pete nodded, eyes still looking a little glazed over. “You got it.” 

When Tony had left, Wade turned to Pete wide-eyed. “What the fuck just happened?”

“I could ask you the same thing!” Pete countered, sounding just a little angry. “You weren’t paying attention to Natasha at all, were you?”

“I most certainly was,” Wade argued. “But why don’t you break it down for me, just to prove that  _ you _ were paying attention.”

Pete shook his head. “You just got us benched, Wade. Natasha wants us to stay in the tower and stay out of all of this while they come up with a plan to bring in Matt, and you agreed to it. We're out of the game.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Matt in this chapter is all of us rn:
> 
> I hope everyone is doing well and staying healthy and safe! Things are just a tad scary and stressful, and your comments bring me life. Thank you to everyone who spares a minute to leave them!!
> 
> Also, if you were curious why Yellow is suddenly obsessed with Pete fucking him while upside down, it's because he saw this post on Tumblr Maybe come hang out with me there? I mostly just reblog thirst pics and sometimes I post low quality pictures of things I am currently reading... I could probably be selling that better...


	17. Seventeen

_ Ok… this looks bad. _

Scratch that. This  _ was _ bad.

Things were bad. Things were fucking bad. He couldn’t believe that he’d missed it when he’d seen Matt last week… or was it two weeks ago now? What even was time these days? He could tell something was wrong. Obviously Matt was wearing those skin tight black pajamas that did absolutely everything for his ass but also absolutely nothing to protect him, which meant he was depressed, but Clint had attributed that to the breakup. 

When you hung out with Matt Murdock for any length of time, you realized that he had two settings: 1. Absolute Commitment-Phobe, and 2. Goddamned Mother-Fucking Martyr. 

Unless you were Foggy. Foggy got his own setting: 3. Protect with every ounce of being. Clint had been a bit jealous of that at first. It wasn’t that he necessarily wanted that level of undying devotion from Matt - they’d never been more than a casual fuck, even if Matt’s mouth was capable of things that should probably be classified as criminal. Still, watching Matt lose his meticulously perfected cool over somebody jostling Foggy on the subway was challenging to see. Foggy was  _ his,  _ not Matt’s, even if Matt had been the one to introduce them, and for the first few weeks he needed to almost constantly remind himself that Matt had known him first.

Foggy did things to his brain, ok? Sue him. 

Also, boy had he learned the hard way not to say sue me” to Foggy. Except, of course, when he wanted to get fully dicked down by an aggressive bulldog of a man in a three piece suit. 

Clint Barton had never, in his entire life, been the kind of person that anyone would consider classy - he’d grown up in the circus for fuck’s sake - but Foggy never made him feel like they were anything but equals. When Foggy came home to him after a long day in court, brown hair slicked carefully back away from his face, tailored suit draped perfectly across his soft frame… Well Clint had absolutely no clue how he lucked into being with someone so amazing. Most of the time, Foggy was the big lovable goofball that everybody expected him to be just by looking at him. They’d order a pizza or cook some pasta together, snuggle together on the couch and make out lazily while watching some dumb documentary on Netflix. But sometimes… sometimes Foggy would pull off his suit jacket in such a way - his movements so precise and controlled - that Clint would momentarily forget which one was the trained assassin. Foggy would roll up his shirt sleeves, exposing his thick forearms dotted with dark hairs, and Clint’s mouth would begin to water. It was when Foggy unbuttoned the top button of his collar and loosened his tie just enough to get it over his head that Clint knew he was in for it.

Because Foggy cared about his clothes. He’d told Clint, once, after seeing the one tie that Clint owned for fancy Avengers events hanging pre-tied in his closet, that you never, ever left your tie tied when you weren’t wearing it. It wrecked it. Destroyed the fabric. Left creases and wrinkles that would never go away. For Clint it was about speed and convenience; getting that damned thing on and off as quickly as possible. But for Foggy... oh no. For Foggy, ties were an art.

So if Foggy was leaving his tied, that meant it was about to find its way onto Clint’s wrists, and that Franklin Percy Nelson was about to make him scream and cry in ways that did not behove one of the Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. 

On the other hand, it was nice to know that he wasn’t 100% responsible for Foggy’s safety at all times. Foggy was, despite the attitude he took in the bedroom, genuinely too pure and too trusting to be dating an Avenger. And, as much as Clint tried to look out for him, he’d been informed that he was a bit of a disaster person enough times by Katie-Kate (and Jessica, and Phil, and Cherry, and Bobbi… although it wasn’t exactly the same when it was coming from someone immediately after a break-up) that even he had to admit she might be onto something.

Clint and Natasha stood silently in the elevator. It wasn’t strictly necessary; they’d all just been in the same meeting for fuck’s sake. Still, old habits die hard, he supposed. Next to them, Bucky was holding Cap tightly in his arms, murmuring directly into his ear. They were not being quiet, but Clint had no interest in listening to what they were saying. Nope. Do not spy on supersoldier dirty talk. He’d learned that lesson the hard way. Jesus Christ, some of the things those two enjoyed made him shudder, and he was into some Serious Shit™.

The elevator stopped its descent and the doors slid open. Natasha took two steps forward then turned, facing them. “Clint and I are going to iron out some final details. James, will you join us in two hours?”

“Better make it three,” he grumbled, pressing his face harder into Cap’s neck. 

Cap slapped him playfully on the ass, although Clint knew that ‘playfully’ for them probably still meant ‘broken coccyx’ for him. “If the lady wants you in two hours then we’ll be there in two hours.”

“No we.” Natasha’s face was carefully neutral. “Just James.”

“Excuse me?” Cap’s face was anything but neutral. “What the hell? He’s my friend, too, Nat. And I’m Captain America for pity’s sake. You don’t just cut Captain America out of your mission.”

Natasha sighed. “I need you to sit this one out, Steve, precisely  _ because  _ you’re Captain America, ok? Matthew he’s… he’s under a lot of pressure. He’s probably being watched. We need to be stealthy here.”

“I can do stealthy!!” Cap practically whined. 

Clint, Natasha, and Bucky just stared at him.

“I can! I… I have a stealth suit and everything. Why would I have a stealth suit if I can’t do stealthy? Barton, tell her I can do stealthy.”

Clint held his hands up in front of him. “Listen, for my own safety I’m going to plead the fifth on that one. Cap… your stealth suit is nice. It has a lot of… benefits.”

“Damn right it does,” Bucky added, and Clint aggressively averted his eyes to avoid looking at what Bucky’s hands were doing. 

“But the Spider-Kid and Deadpool handed this mission over to Nat, and I think we need to respect her judgement here. Plus she’s known Matt longer than any of us and, um… other stuff that I’m sure is important.” He glared at Natasha, trying to send a telepathic message with his eyes.  _ Save me!  _ She just smiled back at him, because she was a sadistic jackass. He crinkled his eyes and nose.  _ I’m trying to help you, you traitor, _ he willed her to understand.

Natasha just smiled harder. 

“Anyway,” Clint mumbled, turning back to Cap, who was glaring daggers at him. “We should go… do the things now.” He turned and hightailed it off the elevator. “Bye! See you in two hours, Bucky!”

“Three!” Bucky shouted back after him and, as the doors shut between them, Clint heard him say to Cap, “you can stealth me any time you want.”

Clint wasn’t even going to wonder what that meant. He wholeheartedly did not want to know.

Somehow, despite getting off the elevator after him, Natasha was already several feet in front of him and, as he hurried to catch up, Clint stumbled over his own feet. A few drops of coffee escaped from the mug he was holding and fell onto his hand. Clint flinched before realizing that his coffee was actually cold. He shrugged to himself and sucked the liquid off of his fingers. “Why you gotta be like that?” he asked Nat, as they walked into her apartment. “I was taking your side.”

She leaned against the kitchen counter and appraised him coolly. “Maybe I just like making you squirm. Speaking of… Have you talked to your man yet?”

Clint could feel a blush rising up his neck and he forced himself to push it back down. 

“Why not?” she asked, not waiting for his response. “You nervous he’ll say no, or scared he’ll say yes?”

Clint didn’t answer. Now he was sure the blush could be seen spreading all the way up the sides of his face. “Can we not, right now?” he managed to stutter out.

“Hey, of course, no problem.” Clint dared to look up and, while Nat’s face was totally neutral as always, her eyes were laughing at him. “Obviously it’s all your call. You just suggested that it was something he might enjoy, so I wanted to remind you that I’m available. Should we focus on the task at hand?”

“Please.”

Natasha moved smoothly behind the counter. She took down two glasses and pulled a bottle of vodka out of the freezer. “We know all this started because Vanessa Fisk was threatening Peter and Deadpool. The way I see it,” Natasha poured the drinks as she spoke and handed one to Clint, “there are three possible reasons as to why it hasn’t stopped. I refuse to believe that Matthew has just gone bad. Either he still thinks Fisk is a risk to his boys…”

“Which is why you wanted Pete and Deadpool to stay in the tower?” Clint interrupted.

Natasha nodded. “Exactly. There isn’t any place safer. If that is what’s happening, then keeping them here should be enough to convince Matthew that Fisk can’t get them. Option two is that there is some outside force controlling him.”

“You mean like demonic possession or something like that? You think this is a mind control situation?” The thought made him twitchy. Mind control was the worst.

“I’m just saying it’s an option.” Natasha sighed. “You said you saw him. Did he seem…”

“Brainwashed? Not especially, no. He seemed moody, but no more than Matt normally gets when he’s depressed.”

Natasha took a long sip of her drink. “The third option is that he’s gotten it into his thick head that he can actually control the Hand and use them for good.”

Clint rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that sounds like the Matty we know and love. So what do we do?”

“Well… getting Peter and Deadpool out of the picture was a good first step. I’m glad they agreed to it so easily. I’d expected Wade to put up more of a fight if I’m being honest. But now…”

“Wade?” Clint interrupted. “Since when are you on a first name basis with the guy?”

“He lives in the tower, Clint.” Natasha sighed, as if she were being put upon, and moved to fill her glass. “He and Peter seem to be pretty serious about each other. I suspect we’re not getting rid of him anytime soon.

“Still.” Clint smiled at her. “You like him.”

“He’s obnoxious and crude.”

Clint shrugged. “So am I and we get along pretty ok. You like him.”

Natasha thought about it for a moment. “I’m willing to give him a chance,” she finally admitted. “He’s made some mistakes, but really who hasn’t? And he makes Peter happy. And Matthew too, I think, if Matthew knew how to just let himself be happy for once. What does Franklin think of him?”

“Please don’t call him that.”

“Well I’m certainly not going to call a grown-ass man  _ Foggy.” _

Clint laughed. “I don’t think they’ve ever met, actually. Foggy’s met you and Tony. And Cap and Bucky of course. And I think that’s it.”

“What?!? Well you’re going to have to fix that immediately.”

“I guess I will.” Clint threw back the remainder of his drink and passed his glass to Natasha for a refill. “So who’s on the team?”

  
  


***

Matt heard the click of the safety being disengaged before he felt the presence of the man behind the gun. He was exhausted, senses worn down, attention divided. Nobody should be able to sneak up on him like that, no matter how well trained they were. Slowly, he raised his hands and unfolded his body. He stood from where he was crouched on the edge of the rooftop and, without turning, he addressed the man behind him.

“Alright, Frank. You’ve made your point. Can you drop the gun now?”

“No.” 

His voice was deep and rough as always, but there was something else behind it. Confusion? Mistrust?  _ Concern, _ his mind supplied. Matt pushed the thought away. He still didn’t turn. “You going to shoot me?”

“Maybe,” Frank replied. Matt could hear he was wearing a kevlar vest under his trench coat. Foggy had told him once that it had a skull painted on it. It smelled like blood and anger and fear. The fear was not Frank’s. “Who else is with you.”

“No one.”

Frank sighed. His gun lowered slightly. Matt could tell that it was still pointed at him, though. If he tried to get away, Frank would definitely shoot him. It might not be a kill shot, but it would be enough to stop him in his tracks. And once he was incapacitated...

“From what I’ve been hearing, alone isn’t really your MO these days,” Frank said, taking a step towards him. 

“I’m going to turn around now, ok?” Matt said, keeping his hands up.

Frank grunted.

Knowing that was the closest thing to an affirmative he was going to get out of Frank, Matt turned, stepping down off the edge of the building and onto the rooftop as he did so. It didn’t matter to him; not really. His senses worked in 365 degrees, and he wasn’t worried about slipping off the edge of the building, either. But he’d found that people reacted better if they could see his face - although he wasn’t sure if that particular fact extended to Frank. Regardless, it was always better to have a little extra room to negotiate when the Punisher was involved.

“That’s close enough.” Matt felt the gun raise back up to eye level. 

He held his hands up higher. “What’s going on, Frank? Something you want to talk about? I thought we knew where we stood with each other.”

“Thought I knew a lot about you, Red.” Frank spat on the ground. “Startin’ to realize I might have been wrong.”

“You want to put down the gun and tell me what you mean?”

Frank laughed. The sound was short. Abrupt. It hurt Matt’s ears. “I really don’t know what you think you’re playing at here, and honestly I don’t care. It’s certainly no skin off of my back. If anything it takes some of the pressure off, you doin’ my job for me.” He smiled - more of a grimace than anything else - shook his head, and gritted his teeth. “But she don’t like it very much. You gotta know that. And if she ain’t happy then I ain’t happy, so it’s gotta stop.”

“What has to stop, Frank? What are you even talking about?”

“The killing.” 

Matt’s heart skipped a beat, but Frank’s didn’t. He wasn’t joking, wasn’t lying, wasn’t trying to mess with Matt in any way. “I haven’t killed anyone.”

“Maybe not you specifically, but that cult you’ve joined... your freaky ninja goons. Word on the street is, you’re leading ‘em these days. If that’s the case, then it’s just as much on you. First rule of war, Red. You’re responsible for your men.”

Matt surged forward, pushing the gun aside as he got up in Frank's face. “The Hand is not killing anyone,” he growled. “Not  _ since  _ I started leading them. I put an end to that.” 

Frank laughed again, genuine this time which almost made it worse. “You really believe that, don’t you. You fucking choir boy. Haven’t you listened to the news today?”

He hadn’t. Matt hadn’t gone into work that day; he’d locked himself in his apartment with his books, trying to find anything useful on a case that had been dropped into their laps two days before by the District Attorney. It had been like banging his head against the wall - dead end after dead end - all day, until Foggy had called him and told him that, somehow, there’d been a mistake. The entire case had been misfiled, two proceedings having been mixed together. They’d laughed about it, joked about how Blake Tower needed to get his shit together, but it hadn’t made any sense at all. It was almost as if…

_ It was almost as if someone had been trying to keep him occupied all day. _

“What happened?”

Frank’s smile faded. He dragged a hand across his face, rubbing it over his mouth and unshaven jaw. “Shit, you really don’t know, do you? Fuck.” 

“Just tell me, Frank.”

“Alright. Alright. Just… maybe you want to sit down for this or something?”

Matt crossed his arms in front of his chest and set his jaw.

“Ok, fine. Jesus. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Frank reset the safety on his gun and slung it over his shoulder. He began to pace. “They’re not even really reporting all of it yet. Just sayin’ that there was an attack. But Karen… you know Karen, she can’t keep her nose out of any place it doesn’t belong. She… fuck.” He sat down on a ledge, ran a hand through his hair, and scratched behind his ear. “It was your Hand. They attacked the Oscorp cafeteria in broad daylight, just after noon. About 30 of ‘em. They killed over a hundred people, Matt. I get that place is evil as sin, but these were just regular folks who worked there.”

Matt couldn’t breathe. It was possible that Frank was still talking, but he couldn’t hear him. He couldn’t hear the city, either - just the sound of his own heart pounding in his ears. Frank wasn’t lying. Every word he’d spoken was true. And he was right. Matt was responsible. Even if he hadn’t ordered the attack, even if he hadn’t been aware of it,  _ you’re responsible for your men.  _

Matt pulled off his mask, legs collapsing underneath him. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he realized that - if he hadn’t stepped away from the edge of the building - he almost certainly would have fallen. 

_ He shouldn’t have moved.  _

The next thing Matt was aware of was lying in a bed. It’s not his bed. The mattress is lumpy and the sheets are scratchy and the air smells of cigarettes and Indian food and dog. He rolls out his shoulders, focusing, and the voices outside the bedroom door jump into focus. 

“He didn’t do this.”

“Of course he didn’t. I know that! You think I don’t know that? But he’s going to feel the need to take responsibility, and he’s going to do something stupid and then I’m going to be out of a fucking job!”

“Is that what you’re worried about?”

“No… I just. I don’t know how to deal with the rest. I can’t ask him to stop; I know that now. I don’t even want to anymore. Not really. But…” Karen’s voice cracked and grew muffled as she pressed her face into Frank’s shoulder. “I’ve already lost him too many times. I know that, eventually, the time will come when I’m going to lose him again and it’s going to be for good. I don’t know what I’m going to do when that happens, and I’m sick of never knowing if this is that time.”

“It’s not,” Matt interrupted hesitantly. “Not yet, anyway.”

“You alright, Red?”

Matt nodded curtly. “What happened? Did I pass out? I remember… we were talking on the roof, and then…”

Frank shrugs as if it were nothing, and for once Matt is thankful for his aloofness. “Nah, nothing so dramatic. I could just tell you weren’t with me anymore. You were still on your feet. I convinced you to put that ridiculous mask back on, and then you walked all the way here. You just,” he waved his hands in front of his own eyes. “Nobody home. More so than usual.”

“Thank you.” Matt was a little surprised at how much he meant it. “You didn’t need to look out for me like that.”

Frank cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Well that’s what friends are for, ya’ know. Now, how are you gonna fix this.”

“I think I have a plan,” Matt said, pushing past _friend_ and focusing on the first imprints of said plan forming at the outskirts of his mind. “I need a few days to get it all together… and, if you’re willing, I might also need your help.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is all plot. I don't know what happened. I am very sorry, and will do better in the future!!!


	18. Eighteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday, everybody!

“ _ Hawkguy  _ invited  _ me  _ to a party?” Wade practically squealed. “ _ THE  _ Hawkguy?” 

“First off, you were already invited. By  _ Spider-Man.  _ And Spider-Man is way cooler than Hawkeye. Clint asked me if you were coming tonight, but he didn’t  _ invite _ you. I invited you. I invited you weeks ago. You’re my plus one.” Pete was pulling clothes out of the closet. His favorite skinny jeans that were stretchy enough they felt like sweatpants, a red athletic tank that showed off his shoulders, and a grey hoodie because - while it was fucking hot outside - Tony kept the air-conditioning cranked up way too high in the common room and he knew they’d be going in and out all night. “Second, why do you keep saying it like that?”

“Like what, Baby Boy?” Wade stepped out of the bathroom totally nude, drops of water still glistening on his skin. Pete was probably imagining it, but it really looked like his knees were still just a little red from being pressed against the shower’s tile floor while Wade had sucked him off not twenty minutes earlier. 

“It’s HawkEYE, not HawkGUY.”

Wade wrinkled his nose. “I don’t think so, sweet-cheeks. I’m pretty sure that this one is Hawkguy, and Hawkeye is the pretty brunette jailbait who likes to hang out in LA and has an affinity for rocket-launchers.”

“That’s gross, Wade.” 

“Rocket launchers are not gross. You take that back right now!”

“No…”

“YES!” 

“Wade.” Pete sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s not… I wasn’t… I don’t mean the rocket launcher part. Calling somebody jailbait is gross, especially because Bishop is a year older than I am.”

“Awww… Baby Boy, don’t be jealous.” Wade snuggled in close, somehow managing to tuck himself under Pete’s chin despite the noticeable height difference in the opposite direction. “You’re the only jailbait I want in my life.” 

“I swear to god I will web you to the ceiling,” Pete muttered under his breath.

Wade pulled back, holding Pete by the shoulders, pupils dilated to the point that it looked almost painful. “Don’t you dare tease about something like that, Peter Parker.”

Pete blinked at him, frustration completely forgotten. “Yeah?”

“God, yes. Please. Now?”

“We just…” Pete gestured between their two bodies vaguely. “I can’t right now. Could you?”

“I’d be willing to try,” Wade muttered. Then, louder, “Ah, go fuck yourself!” His eyes went wide. “That wasn’t meant for you.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Pete smiled, kissed him on the nose, then pulled away. “Get dressed. We’re going to be late as it is. Fucking on the ceiling can wait.”

“Can it really, though?” Wade whined. 

“Yes,” Pete laughed, pushing Wade off of him. “I’m going to need my full strength for that one. Now go get ready.” Wade winked and then disappeared into the oversized closet with a dopey grin, and Pete couldn’t help but smile too as he got himself dressed. Sometimes it seemed wrong - feeling like this when he knew Matt was out there in trouble. On the other hand, while Pete knew that - somehow - things could be even better, this was still without a doubt the happiest he had ever been in his entire life. He was in love. And not like the puppy love infatuation he’d felt when the three of them first got together; he was straight up, 100%, all in, head-over-heels in love with Wade Wilson. Which… wow. 

“Huh,” he said quietly.

“What’s that, my little black widow?” Wade called, poking his head out of the closet.

Pete considered him for a moment. “That one doesn’t work. It’s already taken.”

“I suppose you’re right. Pity. I’d totally let you bite my head off post-coitus.” 

“I think that’s a praying mantis which, for the record, is also already taken.”

“Oh.” Wade pouted a little, then vanished back into the closet, still talking. “Brown recluse? Wolf spider? Phiddipus? Oh my god have you ever seen a phidippus spider? They’re so fucking cute. I’m going to call you phidippus. Why can’t you talk to spiders?”

Pete’s brain whirled, trying to keep up with Wade’s fast paced stream of consciousness. “Um… I don’t know. Should I be able to talk to spiders?”

“Lang can talk to ants.”

Pete shook his head. “It’s not the same. Scott Lang has a suit. He’s totally different. He doesn’t even have any… You know what, we don’t have time for this. Where’s your present? Do you need to wrap it? I told you, if you wanted to bring a present, you needed to be in charge of it.”

“Present is on the counter, and I will be ready in five!” Wade called out happily. Pete wandered into the kitchen and found the present already wrapped in red, white, and blue striped paper. He picked it up and inspected it carefully. It was heavier than he’d expected, and when he gave the package a small shake he heard a  _ thunk  _ and felt the contents shift. If he hadn’t seen the large box the night before, unwrapped, he would have assumed Wade had it professionally done. The paper was thick and shiny, the corners were perfect, and the large bow sitting on top of it was bright silver and sparkly.

Wade wrapped his hands around Pete from behind, and Pete settled back into the strong warmth of his body. 

“This is really impressive. I suck at wrapping presents. They always come out all lumpy and lopsided.”

Wade kissed the top of his head. “I’ve got lots of hidden skills, Baby Boy. Sanity may not be one of them, but I’m good at heaps of other stuff.”

“Sanity is overrated.” Pete turned and grinned when he laid eyes on what Wade was wearing. The dark jeans and a black tank top covered in a multi-colored firework pattern looked good… like, really good. The tank was tight enough to show off Wade’s pecs and, even though he saw him naked all the time, Pete sometimes forgot how strong his boyfriend was. His fingers traced over the lines of Wade’s abs and all the thoughts drained out of his head except being pushed over their kitchen table and railed hard and… oh. Is this how Wade had felt about the idea of being webbed to the ceiling? Pete suddenly felt very guilty about blowing the merc off, and made a mental note to rectify that situation as soon as possible. 

Over the top of his tank, Wade had pulled on a Captain America sweatshirt - the original uniform - complete with a hood that went up and over his face, with eye holes cut out just like Cap’s cowl. He cleared his throat. “You ok there, Phiddipus? I feel like I’ve lost you.”

Pete laughed. “You look good. Like, really, really good. Where did you get those jeans? They make your ass look unbelievable. I feel like I should write the store a thank-you note or send a fruit basket or something.”

“So polite…” Wade nipped at his ear and pulled him in for a kiss, grabbing a handful of his ass while he had him close. “Thought you said we didn’t have time?”

“We don’t,” Pete admitted, stepping even closer, sliding one thigh between Wade’s legs. The press of Wade’s hands on his ass and lower back were hot and firm, and he allowed himself to melt into them as Wade dragged his teeth over Pete’s lower lip. “Party started thirty minutes ago,” he said, when he could speak again.

“Well then we’d better go.” Wade licked into his mouth, and Pete felt his knees going weak. His dick twitched, and Pete wondered for what must have been the hundredth time how this man got him so hard so fast.

“We could just not.” Pete ran his hand down Wade’s back and tucked it up under the hem of his shirt, running his fingertips over the unique texture of Wade’s skin. “We could stay here, try out that ceiling thing…”

Wade tensed slightly and pulled back, looking into Pete’s eyes. He swallowed hard. “Sure, Baby Boy. If that’s what you want…”

“No,” Pete cut him off, shaking his head to clear it and taking a step back. “Of course not. You’ve been so excited about this party _.  _ There’s no way I’m keeping you from it.”

“Ok, but you can. I mean, I would understand. I wouldn’t mind.”

Pete shook his head and kissed him again, firmly, just once. “No. We’re going and that’s final.” He took a step back and adjusted his pants. “Just… just maybe give me a minute, ok?”

Wade placed a hand firmly on Pete’s chest, then let it slide down over his abs until it was cupping the hard press of his dick in his jeans. 

“I can give you more than a minute, if you want.”

Later, as they got off the elevator and walked into the common room, Pete slipped his hand into Wade’s and squeezed gently. Parties like this always got to him. He was fine one-on-one. Small groups, even, were ok, but big groups were overwhelming. There was too much going on. He couldn’t keep track of everything and everyone. This became especially true at Avengers’ functions, where he didn’t always know everyone, and - more specifically - everyone didn’t know him. 

He knew it was fine; everyone at these things was vetted beyond belief. But still… it always set his Spidey-Sense on edge. 

“We can go any time you want, Baby Boy,” Wade said, picking up on Pete’s nervousness. “Now, or whenever. If you think I’m bein’ too much or if the boxes start takin’ over… just say the word and we can high-tail it out of here. You don’t need me embarrassing you in front of your friends.”

“What? No, Wade! God.” Pete wrapped his arms around his boyfriend and pressed his forehead into his chest, realizing what the merc must have been thinking. Pete had been anxious since Matt had left - since they’d moved into the tower. He’d wanted to keep Wade close, to spend time just the two of them, so - except for patrolling and work - they hadn’t strayed much out of their room. Of course Wade would have read that as Pete wanting to hide him. And then last minute he’d suggested they not even go to Cap’s party? He hadn’t even considered the way that must have sounded.  _ God, I’m the worst!  _ “You never embarrass me. Not ever. I’m so sorry. You gotta believe me, ok? I wasn’t trying to keep you hidden. I just wanted you all to myself is all. After everything I just...” Pete’s words failed him, so he grabbed Wade by the open zipper edges of his Captain America hoodie, pulled their bodies tight together, and kissed him hard.

“That’s just… super disturbing on a lot of levels.” Tony’s voice was smooth in a way that made it sound like he was joking and also like he was very clearly not joking at the same time, and Pete held Wade impossibly tighter. “Ugh, keep it in your pants. You’ll scandalize the grandpas!”

Slowly, Pete stepped away from Wade, his eyes scanning the crowd before finally settling on Cap and Bucky. Cap was sitting on the sofa and Bucky was sitting in his lap, straddling his thighs. Pete nodded at them. “You mean those grandpas? I think they’ll be just fine.” 

Tony followed Pete’s gaze and winced. “Ok, you got me there. And they should tone it down, too. There are children present.”

Pete looked around again, across the crowd gathered in the Avengers common room and spilling out onto the party deck. The core team was there of course - Thor and Clint and Natasha and Dr. Banner, and obviously Cap and Tony, - along with their significant others where appropriate. He also saw several less common faces, along with a few he didn’t know at all. Dr. Strange and Peter Quill weren’t really surprises, the former living nearby and the latter never turning down a party with free beer, but T’Challa was a surprise and -  _ ooh!  _ \- Pete waved excitedly at Shuri. Happy was there and,  _ oh god, that probably meant May was somewhere too. _ He hadn’t really thought about that. He had not been calling home enough recently and was definitely going to get an earful. A green skinned woman who WASN’T Gamora was standing in the corner, engaging in what appeared to be a quite heated conversation with Natasha. The aforementioned Kate Bishop was also there, and she was joined by two other people that Pete assumed were on her team - a young man and a young woman, both with pink hair. Scott Lang was there with Cassie and a woman Pete didn’t know, and Captain Danvers was there with her wife and their daughter.  _ Ok, fine _ , he thought begrudgingly.  _ I guess there are children present. Still…  _ He turned back to Tony and smiled cooly. “You’ve made your point. I promise I won’t do anything that you wouldn’t do at a party like this.”

“That’s cold, kid.” Tony raised a glass of what appeared to be club soda in a toast. “Well played.” He turned to Wade. “I suppose he keeps you busy.” 

“I...yes? No? Fuck, what’s the right answer to that?” Wade stuttered, clutching hard at the present he was carrying in one hand, the other holding on to Pete for dear life. “Shut up, we are not going to tell Iron Man that, Jesus Fucking Christ.”

“Well then.” Tony eyed him suspiciously before turning to walk away. “Good talk. Fireworks are at 10 sharp,” he called over his shoulder. “Make sure you’re out on the deck early if you want a good spot.”

“Well, that went poorly,” Wade mumbled once Tony was out of earshot.

“It was perfect. You’re perfect. Come on.” Pete grabbed Wade’s hand and dragged him out into the party. 

***

_ [You’re such a fucking idiot.] _

_ What? Why? What did I do now? _

_ [Look at him. Poor kid. He’s so anxious he’s practically shaking.] _

_ He doesn’t like big crowds… _

_ [Please. You think that’s all it is? These are his people. His *friends*. He’s not anxious about them. He’s anxious about you.] _

_ About… but… What? Why? I… _

_ [You and your stupid fucking present. Captain America doesn’t want a present from you. You’re going to say the wrong thing and do the wrong thing and embarrass the both of you. Why do you think he’s kept you hidden away in that apartment for the past three weeks? He’s ashamed of you. And he should be, because you’re shameful.] _

_ Oh… _

_ [Fuck yeah, ‘oh.’ Get us the fuck out of there before you do something really stupid and he won’t show us his dick anymore.] _

“We can go any time you want, Baby Boy.” Wade tried to keep his voice from shaking. “Now, or whenever. If you think I’m bein’ too much or if the boxes start takin’ over… just say the word and we can high-tail it out of here. You don’t need me embarrassing you in front of your friends.”

“What? No, Wade! God.” And then Pete’s arms were wrapping around him, his forehead pushing into his chest, and Yellow went silent. It was as if Pete had heard the words too - seen the little yellow box that Wade assumed was just for him. “No. You never embarrass me. Not ever. I’m so sorry. You gotta believe me, ok? I wasn’t trying to keep you hidden. I just wanted you all to myself is all. After everything I just...” And then his baby-boy’s voice was cracking and tears sprung into the corner of his perfect brown eyes and -  _ fuck, no!  _ That wasn’t what Wade wanted. Not to make him cry. Never to make him cry. He almost considered taking a step back, but then Pete was grabbing him by his hoodie and pulling their lips together in a rough kiss that was far more teeth than finesse.

“That’s just… super disturbing on a lot of levels.” 

_ Shut up, Iron Dick.  _ Wade silently applauded himself for keeping the words inside his head. Pete held Wade tighter, and Wade ground into him just a little… he deserved a treat for not telling off Tony Fucking Stark. 

“Ugh, keep it in your pants. You’ll scandalize the grandpas!”

Slowly Pete pulled away, and Wade followed his eyes as they drifted over the crowd before landing on the aforementioned  _ grandpas _ who were, to put it extremely mildly, snuggling together on the couch. 

“You mean those grandpas?” Pete asked, nodding at them. “I think they’ll be just fine.” 

Wade watched with glee as an expression of horror spread across Tony’s face. “Ok, you got me there. And they should tone it down, too. There are children present.”

Pete scanned the crowd again, but this time Wade kept his own eyes locked on Pete’s face. He was just too pretty to want to look away.

_ He wants to be with us. _

_ [I’m as confused by it as you are.] _

_ Yeah, but still. Stop trying to fuck it up. He wants this as much as we do. _

_ [Hey. Don’t tell me to stop. I’m you, remember? You want me to stop then you’ve gotta do it.] _

_ Fuck. _

_ [Indeed.] _

Pete had turned back to the Iron Tool. “You’ve made your point. I promise I won’t do anything that you wouldn’t do at a party like this.”

_ [Oh, snap.] _

“That’s cold, kid.” Tony raised his glass in a toast. “Well played.” He turned to Wade. “I suppose he keeps you busy.” 

Wade’s brain went blank, and not in the good way he hoped for sometimes. “I...yes? No? Fuck, what’s the right answer to that?” 

_ [Tell him that he keeps us busy with his cock!] _

“Shut up, we are not going to tell Iron Man that, Jesus Fucking Christ.”

“Well then.” And thankfully he was leaving. “Good talk. Fireworks are at 10 sharp,” he called over his shoulder. “Make sure you’re out on the deck early if you want a good spot.”

“Well, that went poorly,” Wade mumbled once Tony was out of earshot.

“It was perfect. You’re perfect. Come on.” Pete grabbed his hand and dragged him away from the door and further into the common room. 

Their first stop was Captain America himself who, although Wade had obviously met him before, was still quite intimidating. He handed over the present - now partially dented from being held onto so tightly during his interaction with the man in the box - and Steve... 

_ [HE FUCKING TOLD US TO CALL HIM STEVE WE ARE NEVER CALLING HIM ANYTHING ELSE HOLY SHIT CAPTAIN AMERICA TOTALLY LOVES US!!!!!] _

...had at first laughed. “Presents are totally not expected or required when you're one-hundred-and-one.”

“Don’t be a dick, Stevie,” Bucky replied. “I know yer ma’ raised you better than that. The man got you a present. Be a good boy and say thank you.”

Steve blushed. “Thank you.” He carefully pulled back the tape - and Captain America would be the fucking type to save wrapping paper - then lifted the top flap of the box. His eyes went wide, and shot up to meet Wade’s. “Where did you… HOW did you...?” He pushed the box into Bucky’s hands and pulled out the contents: two large textbooks and five or six spiral bound artist’s notebooks. He clasped the pile tight to his chest, looking for all the world like he might cry. “Wade, how did you get these?”

Wade shrugged. “It was nothing.”

“It wasn’t nothing.” Steve blinked at him, his expression changing from shock to something closer to horror. “The guy who had these… I talked to him. He was the only private collector with my art books who wasn’t willing to at least donate them to the Smithsonian. I tried to buy them.  _ Tony _ tried to buy them. He wouldn't budge. Wade…” His voice was barely a whisper. “What did you do?”

Wade laughed. “Please! I would  _ never  _ do  _ anything _ inappropriate when shopping for Captain America’s birthday present. You’re an icon of strong morals and good behavior and I would  _ certainly never  _ besmudge that reputation.”

“Did you threaten the guy?”

“Absolutely not. 100%. Scouts honor. I swear on my mother’s grave, that bitch.”

“Oh… um… thanks?” Steve wavered between looking uncomfortably at Wade and longingly at his books. “And sorry to hear about you mom.”

“What about her?”

“Uhhh…” Steve looked to Pete for help. Pete just shrugged. “That she’s dead?”

“Oh…” Wade grinned. “Yeah, I mean I’m just guessing. I haven’t talked to her in like, seventy years, assuming that’s even the origin story you want to believe. I have so many even I’m confused.”

“Oh. Well… Great.” Steve looked up, caught Wade’s eyes, and smiled a truly genuine and breathtaking smile. Wade could feel the metaphorical clouds part and he heard a chorus of puppy angels singing. “Thank you, really. It… you have no idea how much this means to me.”

Wade smiled back and gave a perfect salute. “Happy Birthday, Cap! Alright, Petey-Pie! Show me the sights.” He grabbed Pete’s hand and together the two walked away, out through the large, open, glass doors and onto the deck.

“Did you threaten the sketch-book guy?” Pete asked quietly, once they were far enough away and far enough into the crowd to be almost certain Steve’s enhanced hearing wouldn’t be able to pick up their words. 

“Of course not, Sugar-Butt. I wouldn’t lie to Captain America!”

“Then how did you…”

“Broke into his house and stole them when he wasn’t home. The man’s security was a disgrace. He had it coming, really.”

“Wade!” Pete turned and grabbed both his arms. “You have to tell Cap! If he says something, and then the guy comes forward and says they were stolen…”

“Way ahead of you, Itsy-Bitsy. See, I also made several  _ extremely _ sizable donations in the guys name to  _ multiple  _ foundations that the good Captain attaches his name to, and I  _ may  _ have slipped a press announcement from the guy to one of my buddies at the Bugle suggesting that  _ possibly  _ he realized he’d been an ass about the whole notebook thing and wanted to give them all back and also make the donations to atone. So… yeah. If he denied giving the books back he’d have to also deny those donations too, and that would make him look like quite the asshole. Plus he’d lose a sizable tax write-off and, unfortunately, it seems like the poor asshole might have also just been audited by the IRS. If you’re going to have that shitty of security, you probably also shouldn’t leave notes to your shady business dealings just lying around on your password protected and heavily encrypted computer for anyone to find.”

Pete stared at him.

_ Did we fuck up? _

_ [I don’t think so, but it’s always a possibility…] _

“Wade…” Pete’s voice cracked in that adorable way it did when he was feeling especially emotional. “You are amazing. I cannot believe you did all that just to give Cap a birthday present.”

“I wanted to make you proud, Baby Boy.”

“I am. I’m so proud.” Pete wrapped his small body around Wade’s larger one, and pulled him in for a soft kiss that threatened to quickly turn into something much deeper. Wade only had time to lick between his lips twice before Pete was pulling away, lips red and pupils blown wide. “Proud doesn’t even start to describe it.”

“Yeah? You wanna take me somewhere and show me how proud of me you are? I’ve heard nothing says ‘you-did-a-good-job-buying-a-birthday-present-for-my-sort-of-boss’ like fucking someone senseless after affixing them to the ceiling with a long chain polymer solution of your own design.”

“Wow. That does sound pretty great. But I think I have a better idea.”

“Oh yeah?” Wade leaned in. “Tell me.”

“What if, instead of that, I introduced you as my boyfriend to absolutely everyone I know.”

Wade gasped. “Baby Boy?”

“I love you so much.” Pete kissed him again. “I don’t want you to ever feel like I’m trying to hide you. And then after the fireworks…” Pete dropped his voice even lower, standing up on his tiptoes to whisper in Wade’s ear. “After the fireworks, then I’ll web you to the ceiling and make you see fireworks better than any encore Tony’s money can buy.”

_ [Guh.] _

_ Same.  _

It was crowded. Like, really, really fucking crowded. He met a petite girl with braided hair pulled back into Princess Leia buns, who looked much tougher than she had any right to be and who - after exchanging an intricate handshake - Pete introduced as his best friend, Shuri. 

_ I thought the chubby kid was his best friend. _

_ [It doesn’t seem like Ned is in this fic. We don’t need any new characters, alright? There are enough people here already!] _

After Shuri, he was re-introduced to Pepper Potts who he had met when he’d moved into the tower but never again; a man named Happy; Pete’s Aunt May who Wade was pretty sure was an angel; a green lady with a lot of knives; and the green lady’s dopey looking boyfriend. Wade was about to surrender and suggest they go get a drink when he saw a soft looking man with dirty-blonde hair staring intently at him. 

On one hand, Wade was pretty sure he’d never seen anyone who looked less like they belonged at a superhero party, and not just because the man looked like his last gym membership expired in 1997. Or 2007? Wade got confused about the year sometimes. Regardless, not only did he not have the standard superhero physique, he also was severely overdressed. He was wearing a lightly colored collared shirt with a pink suit-coat pulled over that, sleeves jauntily rolled up. He had on linen pants and a pale straw fedora with a band that perfectly matched the handkerchief tucked into his breast pocket. To say the man was well put together would be an understatement. He was standing near the grill, beer in his hand, and an expression of disbelief on his face.

_ [Is he fucking laughing at us? We should un-alive him immediately.] _

_ No. No, hold on. _

Wade nudged Pete with his elbow. “Who's that guy.” 

“Hmm? Who? Whe… Oh, shit.” The man seemed to notice Pete and his eyes grew wide. Immediately, he handed his beer to  _ THE  _ Hawkguy and headed over towards them.

“Oh my god, it’s you,” the man said, as soon as he was close enough to be heard over the crowd. “I would have never guessed. I mean, of course you know how to hide it. And just so you know, I can hide it too. Lots of experience there.” He chuckled nervously. “I just… you’re so young and… I mean, not  _ that  _ young of course, because… well, you know. I’m sorry. I’m talking too much. I tend to ramble when I get nervous and like, I mean, you’ve always been my favorite and then when Matt told me that he and you were…” He turned to Wade. “And you. I’m super excited to meet you, too. It’s not that you’re not one of my favorites, too, it’s just… how can anyone compete with Spider-Man, you know?”

“I do,” Wade said, seeing as the man paused enough to get a word in. “And you are?”

“Jeez of course. I’m so rude, I’m sorry. Of course you wouldn’t…” He held out his hand, and Wade took it and shook it firmly. The man winced at his tight grip. “Foggy Nelson.” 

Wade felt like he couldn’t breathe which, unfortunately, the man took as confusion.

Foggy continued nervously. “You know, the other half of Nelson and Murdock? I’m… I’m Matt’s best friend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I feel like this chapter (and the next one tbh) are straying a bit off plot, but I really just needed a bit of fluffy spideypool nonsense in my life so I hope that you can forgive me. I promise, sad, moody, martyr Matt is still there in the background wearing his black suit and being emo as hell (I love him. That black suit is where it is at!!) and we will pick that thread up again shortly. But for now, the author can have a little party scene with more than 10 people who are less than 6 feet away from each other? as a treat? 
> 
> Let me know your thoughts! And stay safe out there!!


	19. Nineteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've been thinking to yourself "Hey now! The past two chapters have been all plot and no smut! What is even happening here? This isn't what I signed on for...
> 
> Boy, have I got a chapter for you!!
> 
> If you haven't been thinking that... SORRY!! But promises were made to Wade in the last chapter, and I dare not go back on them.
> 
> Regardless... Enjoy!!

Next to him, Pete felt Wade go still. He reached out his hand and intertwined their fingers, Wade’s rough ones fitting comfortably between his own, and squeezed gently before lifting his head to meet Foggy’s eyes. “Hey Foggy. It’s nice to see you again.” Pete paused. Foggy had seemed like a nice guy… he didn’t want him to think this was the only thing he cared about. On the other hand, it really was the only thing he cared about. “How is he?”

“He’s fine,” Foggy answered, as if on instinct, then he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “I mean, I think he’s fine. He says he’s fine? I don’t even know sometimes.” He took a deep breath. “He looks like shit. Or, he looks like shit for Matt Murdock which, let’s be honest, is still better than most of us get on a good day.” 

Pete smiled weakly. 

“He misses you,” Foggy continued, speeding up as he spoke. “Not that he would ever say it, of course. And I’m sure he wouldn’t appreciate me saying it either, but I’ve been his friend long enough to know that it’s true. He’s happy, though - for both of you, I mean.”

“Happy…?” Pete questioned.

“Yeah, I mean. That you’re together. He’s not…”

“What did he say?” Wade stepped forward, squeezing Pete’s hand tighter. He brought his face close to Foggy’s. Foggy, to his credit, didn’t flinch at all. “What did he say, exactly?”

“Umm…” Foggy’s eyes flicked from Wade to Pete. “He said that the two of you were happy together? That you were living in Avengers tower just the two of you… He made it sound like…” A look of disbelief mixed with disgust flashed over Foggy’s face. “He made it sound like you broke up with him.” 

“Did he say that?” Wade questioned.

“No.” Foggy pressed his lips together in anger. “No, he didn’t. But he certainly didn’t correct me when I assumed, either.” He shook his head. “That fucker. He did this, didn’t he? Whatever it is that he’s into, he pushed you away because of it?”

Pete nodded weakly. 

“Asshole! He…” Foggy pulled off his hat, ran his fingers through his hair, and started to pace. “The thing you gotta understand about Matt -” Foggy stopped and held one hand up. “No. I’m sorry. You don’t have to understand  _ anything  _ about Matt. What he did to you… what he’s doing to you… You don’t owe him anything.” He began pacing again. “But I’ve been there, you know? I’ve been the one he pushed away  _ for my own protection.  _ Because that’s what this is, right?” 

He looked at Pete, who nodded again.

“He’s my best friend, and I love him, but he’s a fucking idiot.” He stilled, then pushed his fingers into his forehead hard before dragging them over his temples and down the sides of his face. He put his hat back on, took a deep breath, and made eye contact with first Pete and then Wade. “The thing you might consider understanding about Matt,” his voice was calm now, all traces of nervousness gone, “if you want to understand anything about Matt, which you certainly don’t owe him, is that he’s not bullshiting you. Whatever it is that he told you, he believes it. The man needs massive amounts of therapy, but he believes what he’s saying. He believes that he’s the only one who can deal with whatever the fuck it is that he’s gotten himself into now. He believes that his mere existence in your life is putting you at risk and, ok maybe that one is true sometimes, but he also believes that you’d be better off without him. Do you know why he does the whole devil thing?”

Pete and Wade both shook their heads  _ no _ .

“Because his grandmother told him that he had a piece of the devil in him, back when he was a little kid, and he believed her. He still does. He thinks he’s cursed. No,” Foggy held up one finger. “No. He thinks he  _ is _ a curse. He thinks that he’s a fucking curse to everyone he meets and he can’t move past it.”

Pete couldn’t help but wonder how Nelson and Murdock ever lost a case.

“He’s convinced that he’s the reason his dad died. He’s convinced that he’s the reason Elektra died. He’s apparently convinced that he’s a big enough bad luck charm that he might be the reason that Deadpool dies and - correct me if I’m wrong - that’s impossible, right?”

“Basically,” Wade confirmed.

“So what’s he into this time? What shit has Matt Murdock buried his head in so deeply that he feels the need to protect both Deadpool and Spider-Man? I’ve seen the bruises. I knew it was more than just a breakup. I let myself believe he was going out more - fighting more - because he was depressed and lonely and all of his usual friends with benefits were otherwise occupied. But deep in my heart I knew it was more than that, and I didn’t push for more information, and for that I’m sorry. So tell me. What is it this time? What has he done?”

“It’s…” Pete started, paused, then started again. “It’s a lot. We’re not supposed to talk about it, but it’s the - “

“Classified.” Clint stepped out of nowhere. “It’s the classified.”

“You knew? You knew and you didn’t tell me!?!”

“Of course I knew, Foggs. It’s my job to know.” Clint picked absentmindedly at a corner of the white bandage over his left eyebrow. “And I couldn’t tell you. You know I couldn’t. Because then you’d want to go after him, just like you want to go after him now, and you’d end up spooking him. We… there’s a plan. We’re going to get him back, ok? I promise.”

“What do you mean  _ back _ ?.” Foggy had turned fully towards Clint, his big, brown eyes fixed on the taller man’s blue ones. “That makes it sound like he’s gone. He’s not gone. I just saw him yesterday. He’s not…”

Clint shook his head. “He’s pretty far gone.” He reached out and grabbed Foggy’s hand. “But it’s going to be ok. Nat has a solid plan.”

“That woman terrifies me.”   
  
“That’s because you’re a genius, Foggy Bear.”

“Please don’t call me that.” Foggy glared at him and dropped his voice to a whisper. “You know I don’t like that. Why would you call me that, and in front of Spider-Man of all people?!”

“He kind of has a crush on you,” Clint laughed, breaking the somber mood and turning to Pete. “He thinks you’re the coolest Avenger.”

“Oh my god.” Foggy was blushing. “I’m going to die. Let’s go back to talking about how much trouble Matt is in.”

“How could he possibly think that?” Wade chimed in, seeming to share Clint’s need to turn things back to positive. “I mean, no offense Petey-Pop. You do have an ass that won’t quit, and you’re so very, very bendy. But  _ Foggy Bear  _ is dating  _ The Hawkguy. _ ”

“It’s Hawkeye.”

“Listen,” Wade stuck a mangled finger in his face. “I’m taking your side over the man who regularly touches my dick, so maybe just keep your yapper shut m’kay?” He turned back to Pete. “I mean, the man never misses.”

“I’m Spider-Man. I have at least fairly decent aim,” Pete pouted, unable to keep Wade’s infectious cheer at bay.   
  
“Baby Boy, you can’t get your socks into the hamper to save your life.”

Clint grinned at Pete. “I like him. He’s a keeper.”

“Yeah, I know.” Pete fawned up at Wade.

“Ah, Shit. Would you look at that?” Pete followed Foggy’s gaze out and across the party deck to the group of people already gathering along the edge of the Balcony. “And it’s only 9:30. Damn! Who would have guessed superheroes would get so excited about fireworks.”

“Everyone gets excited about fireworks, Foggs.”

Pete glanced cautiously at Wade, who smiled at him and bobbed his head in agreement. “We had a different plan to watch… if you wanted to join us?”

***

Pete carried them up one at a time. It wasn’t that he couldn't lift their combined weights - honestly it probably would have been pretty easy - but logistically that was a nightmare and he didn’t mind taking the trips. They discussed it and decided that Wade would go first, then Foggy, then Clint. That way, Foggy could back out if he wanted to, and Clint wouldn’t need to be brought back down. Foggy was the least used to heights of all of them; it made sense to give him an easy out. 

He had carried the bench up the day before, and had taken the extra precaution of welding it to the roof. The pitch of the roof was minor, but it wasn’t non-existent and the last thing he needed was having to explain to Tony why a park bench fell off the highest point of Avengers Tower, or where he’d gotten a park bench from, or why he’d put it up there in the first place. He hadn’t stolen it from the park, exactly. He was just borrowing it. He planned on returning it! That being said, he’d only intended for it to be the two of them and that particular bench was stolen… borrowed... accordingly, but they’d all fit if they didn’t mind getting cozy with each other. 

The trip up with Wade went as expected. It wasn’t like this was new for them; in fact, Pete couldn’t remember the last patrol that  _ hadn’t _ ended with Wade pouting and holding his hands up to Pete, as if he were a tired child who just  _ needed to be carried  _ after a long day on his feet.  _ You’re fine,  _ Pete would always tell him, hoping that his mask was hiding the way he was grinning like an idiot. He knew he’d give in. Of course he’d give in. But there was something about listening to Wade beg…  _ Please, Spidey. You’re so big and strong and manly and I just NEED you to take care of me all the time. You wouldn’t make me suffer, would you?  _

Exactly how Wade managed to look like he was fluttering his eyelashes through his suit, Pete would never know. 

Eventually, Pete would sigh and give in, as if it were a huge inconvenience to have Wade clamber up onto his back and whisper the dirtiest filth imaginable in his ear while Pete swung them both home.

The only difference between this and that was now, instead of wearing the sculpted leather suit that Tony had insisted on making for Wade once they’d moved into the tower together ( _ “I can’t have you seen with one of mine looking like that. You’re in spandex for fuck sake. What will the neighbors think?!?!” _ ), he was wearing those skin-tight jeans and thin tank and Pete could feel every ripple of his muscles (and some ripples he knew weren’t muscles) pressed up firmly against his back and - oh god - why did he think that inviting Clint and Foggy to join them was a good idea when all he wanted was to hurry to the rooftop and rip Wade’s clothes off, skylight be damned?

The next trip up the side of the building was much less eventful. Foggy was almost overly polite and kept apologizing for  _ that last extra doughnut _ and his  _ unchecked Dorito problem, _ before Pete informed him that he’d once yeeted the Hulk across a battlefield in order to take out a pack of Doombots. Foggy had made an adorable choking noise, mumbled “you are so fucking cool,” and held on a little tighter.

Unfortunately, in all their careful planning, the thing they hadn’t considered was that this particular arrangement would leave Foggy and Wade alone at the very top of Avengers Tower for the entire time it took Pete to swing back down to the party deck and then climb up again with Clint on his back (shouting “giddyup, Spidey!” which… let’s just say Pete had never wished quite so hard that extra-painful spider-bites were one of his superpowers.) By the time they made it back up to the top, Wade had an arm around Foggy’s shoulders and a hand on his thigh. Foggy, in his defense, looked only marginally horrified.

“That’s not going to do anything for him,” Clint said, pushing his way in between the two men to take a seat on the bench.

“And why’s that? You suggesting I’m not good enough for him, just because I’m a clinically insane freak show and he happens to be dating the coolest Avenger?”

“Hey!” Pete complained, while Clint just grinned.

“Nope.” Clint popped his p as Foggy wrapped an arm possessively around him. “I’m just saying that this one likes to be in control.”

The fireworks were spectacular, of course, Tony never missed an opportunity to be extra about anything and, after Pete had swung them all safely back to the deck, the four stepped onto the elevator together, engaging in pleasant small talk and feeling genuinely happy. Clint had thoroughly convinced them all that a quality plan was already in action to rescue Matt from himself, and Foggy had shared enough work stories to keep them laughing for at least the evening. As they walked, Pete and Wade had their arms around each other’s waists. Wade trailed a finger gently over the top of Pete’s jeans, sneaking under the hem of his tank, and Pete felt sparks across the narrow expanse of exposed skin. 

By the time the elevator finally stopped at their floor (and why was Jarvis so slow sometimes?), Pete had lost almost all the serenity he’d found over the course of the night. He controlled his voice and tried to be calm as he said goodnight to Clint and Foggy, and yes they would come over for dinner soon, and no they wouldn’t be strangers, and yes it would have been crazy if Foggy had become a butcher instead of a lawyer, and no they weren’t opposed to being test-subjects for new recipes, and OH MY GOD DID FOGGY NELSON EVER SHUT UP?!?! 

Basically, Pete was dying. He had faced weird aliens and deranged robots and a man made entirely of bees, but this - right here - was how he was going to die. Because the moment they had stepped off the elevator and into their apartment, the moment they were marginally safe from outside attention - except not really because Clint and Foggy were still standing RIGHT THERE - the moment they weren’t under the watchful eye of all the Avengers and were instead under the watchful eye of just ONE Avenger - but, like, the most watchful one - Wade had shoved his hand fully down Pete’s pants and started kneading his bare ass. 

Pete bit his lip, tried to focus on what Clint and Foggy were saying, and willed himself not to pop a boner that would  _ absolutely  _ be noticeable in the tight jeans he was wearing, especially now that the addition of Wade’s hand was making them even tighter. Wade pinched him hard where the curve of his ass met his thigh and Pete cleared his throat, focused on keeping his knees from giving out beneath him, and offered up a silent thank you to the Master-Weaver when the two men finally said goodnight and the elevator door slid closed in front of them.

“Jesus, Wade.” Pete turned to crash their lips together, pressing himself up against Wade and trying to rut against his thigh. 

Wade was already using his free hand to undo the button of Pete’s jeans, shoving his pants and boxer briefs down in one go. He licked along the seam of Pete’s lips, forcing them apart, then dominated the kiss, fucking into Pete’s mouth with his tongue.

Pete groaned, mind struggling to keep up with the pace of Wade’s hands and mouth - struggling to keep up with the pace of his own body’s reaction - as Wade tugged Pete’s shirt up until it was around his neck, not willing to pull apart long enough to get it the rest of the way over his head. 

Finally, when Pete was practically gasping for air, Wade took a step back. His eyes dragged over Pete’s body, and Pete could feel himself blushing as he felt those eyes linger on his chest and abs. He pulled his shirt the rest of the way off of his head, then pointed at Wade, who was still fully clothed. “Your turn. And, for the love of god, you need to let me be at least a little bit in control here. This isn’t going to work if you keep making me feel all boneless.”

Wade flashed a toothy smile and let his gaze drop down to where Pete’s erection was already red and shiny, slapping against his stomach. “I wouldn’t say you’re… totally boneless.”

“No puns,” Pete warned, but he couldn’t help but giggle as Wade finished undressing. “This is serious business. How are we going to do it anyway? I mean, I get the concept, but how are we going to get you up on the ceiling in the first place? I could probably throw you I guess, and then web real fast, but I’ve never tried to do anything like that before and I’m afraid I would miss, and then you’re going to come falling down which - I mean I know you’ll be ok but still, it would hurt - and I…”

“Baby boy,” Wade interrupted. “Shut your sexy little pie-hole. I have a plan.”

“You have a pl…” Pete was cut off as Wade grabbed his hand and dragged him into the bedroom. 

He froze, eyes wide. “What in the goddamn fuck?” Pete looked around at their bedroom - their bedroom that was now in shambles - the bed and all the furniture having been shoved haphazardly to the side and replaced by a large trampoline. “I have so many questions, including - but not limited to - where did this come from? How did you set it up when I know you were at Cap’s party with me? And, maybe most importantly, why did you put it in here, and not in the many empty spare bedrooms that we have?”

“Shhhh…” Wade pressed a single finger to Pete’s lips. “Don’t question the plot holes, Petey-Pie. Not when they’ve brought us a trampoline.” 

“So what? You’re going to just…”

“I’m going to jump and, when I get high enough, you’re going to web me to the ceiling and then you’re going to climb up onto the ceiling and fuck my rotted, cancer riddled, voices hearing brains out. Make sense?”

“I can’t believe you just explained that to me while totally naked.”   
  
“I can’t believe I’m about to get on a trampoline totally naked. I didn’t totally think this one through.”

“No, you really didn’t, did you?” Pete dragged his teeth over his lower lip as he took in Wade’s naked body. Yeah, this was ridiculous, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t into it. Pete walked over to the bed, now pushed up against the wall, and sprawled out. He gestured at the trampoline. “Ok then. Bounce for me.”

Wade winked at him, scrambled up onto the trampoline, and began to jump. “This is really weird!” He shouted, a bit louder than necessary. “I feel all floppity!”

“You look all floppity,” Pete replied with a laugh. “And I’m right here. You don’t have to yell.”   
  
“Yeah, but being on a trampoline just makes you want to shout! This is fun! We should keep this! Aren’t I high enough yet?”

“Oh, probably,” Pete stood up and began to walk around the room, checking out Wade from all directions. As he walked past the bedside table, now pushed against a wall near the foot of the bed, he quickly snagged a bottle of lube. “But this is fun to watch!”   
  
“What? No! This isn’t the fun part! This just gets us to the fun part!”

“I can’t help but notice that, for all your complaining, you haven’t stopped bouncing.” Pete stopped, standing behind Wade, to check out the view. “Your ass is like, really firm. It doesn’t jiggle at all.”

“OMG!” Wade spun mid air, overshooting, and had to oscillate back and forth a few times before he was facing Pete directly. “This isn’t how this is supposed to happen!”

“Says who?”

“Says  _ me _ ,” Wade whined, jumping high enough that he could easily touch the ceiling, one arm up held over his head to make sure he didn’t bump it on accident. “I had a plan, Baby Boy. A strategy. A roadmap. A vision of how this was supposed to…”

Pete moved fast enough that Wade missed it at first, flicking his hands outward and firing six shots in rapid succession, so that Wade was pinned to the ceiling by his shoulders, hips, and ankles. “Here’s the thing,” Pete said, jumping up gracefully onto the edge of the trampoline and walking smoothly to the center, then laying down so he was looking up at Wade, their bodies perpendicular. “I don’t think your plan makes a bit of sense.”

“What?” Wade blinked down at him, eyes wide.

“I mean, look at yourself,” Pete continued. “Your back is flat to the ceiling. There’s no way you’re getting fucked in this position.”

“But… But…” Wade tried to shift and found that he was held tight. “Baby Boy!!!” he wailed. 

Pete shrugged. “I mean, I could make a web under you and drop you down into it. Let you hang. But that’s just a glorified sex swing and anyone can do that. It doesn’t give you the “Spider-Man exclusive” that I think you’re really looking for.”

Wade pouted.

“Awww…” Pete laughed at him. “Calm down. I’m not done.”

Wade sniffled.

“If you cry right now, or get all snotty, it’s going to drip down on me and that’s going to be super gross and ruin the moment. And you  _ don’t  _ want to ruin the moment right now. Trust me on that one.”

Wade narrowed his eyes, looking at Pete suspiciously. “But you said…  _ He said!! _ ”

“You didn’t let me finish.” Pete opened his hand, revealing the small bottle of lube he’d been clutching onto tightly. “You’re forgetting something very important, Wade, sweetheart. Think now. Don’t listen to the boxes. What aren’t you taking into account?”

Wade’s eyes were as wide as those on his suit as he tracked Pete’s movements. 

Pete bit his lower lip, dragging his teeth over it again and again until he knew his lips looked pink and kissed raw. He kept his eyes steady, locked on Wade. Wade’s eyes, on the other hand, were frantically darting across Pete’s body, searching for the clue. Slowly, Pete popped open the bottle.

The click of the cap grabbed Wade’s attention, and finally he locked eyes with Pete.

“Do you know what it is? Hmm…? Have you figured it out yet?”

Wade shook his head frantically,  _ no. _

Pete poured the lube over his finger, leaving a trail of shiny slick as he traced a line between his pecs and down over his abs. Without meaning to, he closed his eyes when his hand brushed across his cock, rock hard under the intense weight of Wade’s gaze, and his back arched up into his own touch. “You’re forgetting,” he groaned as he dropped his hand lower, squeezing his own balls once and then tracing over his perineum before coming to circle his tight hole. He forced his eyes open, was rewarded with the sight of Wade, flushed and breathless above him, eyes completely focused on Pete’s hand. And Pete knew,  _ knew,  _ in that moment, the voices that tormented the man he loved were silent, replaced only with lust. Lust for  _ him.  _ And,  _ my god,  _ if that wasn’t just the best feeling in the world.

“You’re forgetting...” he repeated, teasing his hole with two fingers, not wanting to wait, wanting to feel the stretch and the burn. He breathed out, forced himself to calm, and began to slowly push in, “...that I am a very aggressive bottom.”

Wade gasped then whined, and now nothing in the world could compel Pete to close his eyes. He watched Wade struggle against the webs that held him tightly to the ceiling. His arms were the only part of him that was free, and he reached out to Pete with grabby hands, desperate to get closer, Tony’s stupid 18 foot ceilings separating them, as Pete pushed deeper into himself, dragging his fingers in and out, stretching himself open. 

“Can you see, sweetheart? I don’t want you to miss any of this. It’s all for you, you know.” Pete scooted himself back so that he wasn’t directly under Wade, drawing up his knees and angling his body so that Wade would have a perfect view of his fingers disappearing into his body. He drew his free arm up under his head, supporting his neck and flexing slightly. “Gotta open myself up for you, you’re so big.” His fingers brushed across his prostate and Pete shivered. “Do you have any idea what it feels like? Big, strong, scary Deadpool being all soft for me?”

“Not soft…” Wade whimpered, and Pete laughed.

“No, you’re certainly not, are you? God, look at you.” Pete sat up even further, allowing his fingers to go deeper and drawing out a breathy whimper of his own. “You’re so fucking handsome, Wade. God, you’re everything.”

“Don’t…” 

“No.” Pete’s voice was forceful and Wade’s eyes snapped back to his. “No, you don’t. Don’t you contradict me, Wade. Not now. Not like this.” He pulled his hand free and wiped his fingers on his thigh. In a single movement, and without leaving a ripple in the trampoline, Pete flipped up so that he was standing on the ceiling looking down on Wade. His eyes raked over Wade’s body, long and slow, looking past the scarred skin and instead lingering on the cut of his jaw, the curve of his hips, the strength of his thighs. He kneeled down next to Wade and stroked two fingers over the lips that were both pocked and smooth at the same time. “You’re so fucking beautiful. Anybody who says otherwise is an idiot.”

Wade opened his mouth to protest and Pete pushed his fingers in. Wade quickly closed his mouth around them and began to suck as Pete trailed kisses down his neck and chest, flicking his tongue over first one nipple then the other, before continuing lower. 

When he reached Wade’s belly button, he paused, looking over his shoulder to note the bottle of lube still lying on the trampoline. “Gonna need that,” he muttered, withdrawing his fingers from Wade’s mouth, and using that hand to shoot a stream of webs that caught the bottle and pulled it back up to them. “Now then, where were we?” Pete kissed the tip of Wade’s cock, wet and shiny, and watched as - from their perspective - a tip of precome gathered and appeared to pool upward before dripping into his open mouth. 

“Baby Boy,” Wade choked out. “Please. ‘M so close already.” 

“I can see that,” Pete smiled, then stuck out his tongue to catch another drip. Wade strained his neck, sitting up as much as he could, trying to watch. Pete opened the bottle, forgetting for a second their positioning and trying to squirt the liquid up, before laughing slightly and turning the bottle and his hand the right way. It was messy work - the lube running off the tip of Wade’s cock and puddling on the trampoline below - and Pete took his time making sure the man was fully slicked up before crawling up his body and straddling his hips. Gravity made Wade’s dick point straight down, which seemed to Pete like it was sticking straight up, and he rutted against it, rubbing it between his thighs and along the crack of his ass, before reaching between his own legs and grasping it firmly. 

“You ready?”

“By all that is holy in Asgard and Olympia, I’m so fucking ready,” Wade practically sobbed. “Please, Baby Boy. Please, please, please, please, please.”

“Shhh…” Pete pushed back, feeling the pressure of Wade’s tip against his tight ring of muscle. “I got you, sweetheart.” He kissed Wade’s chest, giving himself a moment to adjust to the intrusion as he continued to move himself down… up… onto Wade’s cock. “Oh,” he whimpered, as Wade’s head slipped fully inside of him, the widest point pushing past his rim. “Shit, Wade. No matter how many times… god, you’re so big. I just…” he panted, moving slowly, sliding Wade up… down… into himself. “No matter how many times… always feels like I’m going to break right in half. Shit!” 

Finally, when he felt the warmth of Wade’s hips against him, Pete stilled, gasping for breath. He pressed his face into Wade’s chest and breathed in deeply. 

“You ok?”

“The angles are just…” Pete took a shuddering breath. “Yeah. I’m real good. Just give me a minute, ok? Gotta make sure I don’t forget to hold on here. Jesus.”

Wade wrapped his arms around Pete. “I got you, Baby Boy. Now for the love of Odin’s hairy ballsack, please move!”

Pete made a sound that was half laugh and half whimper, then rolled his hips experimentally. Both men groaned. He moved again, slowly at first, then more intently as his body adjusted to the intrusion. 

“Just like that, Webs. You take what you need. Fuck, baby, you’re so strong. Oh my god.”

Wade began to ramble as Pete found his rhythm, fucking himself up onto Wade’s cock. He let go with his hands, letting his body hang down as if he were sitting up on Wade’s supine body. His feet were stuck on the ceiling; his hands gripped tightly to Wade’s thighs behind him as he arched his back, losing all track of which way was up and which way was down as Wade’s cock slid across his prostate each time he moved. He felt heat start to coil in his stomach.

“Oh shit. Oh fucking shit, Wade. I’m so close. I…”

“Yeah, baby. Fuck you look so good. Touch yourself, baby. Make yourself come for me. Gotta see it. Gotta see you come. Come on, Baby Boy, give it to me. Need it.”

Pete came with a shout, body tensing, come hitting him on his chest and then sliding down his neck and over the side of his face. For just a moment, he felt himself slipping before Wade’s strong hands clamped down on his hips, keeping them pressed together, forcing him to keep bouncing on Wade’s cock. 

“Sweet Aegis, you are so fucking hot. Can’t get enough of your tight body, baby. Can’t… Fuck!” Wade came, his body pulsing upwards… downwards… and Pete swore he could feel it in his throat as his body clamped down around Wade, milking him dry. 

“Fuck, baby. Come’ere. I got you.” Wade slid his hands down Pete’s body, eventually grabbing Pete’s wrists and pulling his body up until they were flush against each other, chest to chest. Wade ran his fingers over Pete’s face, scooping up the come that had gathered there, then pressed it between his own lips and moaned. He wrapped his arms around Pete’s back and held him tight, licking and sucking his jaw and cheekbones clean, running his tongue along Pete’s ear.

Pete shivered. “Stop it. That’s gross.”

“‘S not gross, Baby Boy. You taste so good. Can’t get enough of you.”

Pete trembled.

“Shh…” Wade soothed him. “You can let go, Petey.” 

And he did. Trusting fully, Pete let his weight fall into Wade’s strong embrace. “Just… just give me a second to recover and then…” They both winced as Wade slipped out of him, and they heard the  _ splat  _ of come hitting the trampoline beneath them.

“This is making a huge mess…” Pete whined.

“We’ll worry about that later, Baby Boy.” Wade held him even tighter. They stayed like that for a few minutes before Wade spoke again. “I don’t want to alarm you… but everything is starting to feel… looser?”

“What do you mean, loos…” Pete had just a second’s warning - his spidey-sense tingling - before the webs started to give and both men jolted towards the ground. Pete grabbed Wade around the waist and shot another strand of web fluid at the ceiling, catching them, swinging them over the now come-encrusted trampoline, and dropping them onto the bed.

“You really are amazing!” Wade said, rolling over so he was on top of Pete, caging him in with his arms and legs, and mooning down at him. “Sensational! Superior, even!”

“Wade…” Pete started to complain, but he was smiling.

“Yeah, Baby Boy?”

Pete hummed and stretched out under Wade, muscles tight from their prior exertion. “Kiss me.” 

“With pleasure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ^Pete, when there is a trampoline in his bedroom.
> 
> Please leave a comment and let me know what you think so far! We are getting to the craziest part of the school year for me, so I am going to try my hardest to have another chapter posted next week, but I need to prioritize my grading plus my own essays that I have to write. If next week gets missed, don't worry! I know how this ends and will not be abandoning it. There just might be a slight delay. Your comments always inspire me to neglect my actual responsibilities and do something fun instead!! Love you all. Hope you're staying safe and sane and healthy


	20. Twenty

“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. It has been three weeks since my last confession.” The air in the confessional was stagnant but cool. It smelled of communion wine and incense and the bodies who had been there before him. Recently, there had been a woman… Matt paused, sniffing the air against his own will… a girl. No older than 19. She had been wearing too much perfume and crying. 

“Three weeks doesn’t seem like that long,” came Father Lantom’s voice from the other side of the partition. 

“I’ve done a lot of sinning since then.”

Father Lantom frowned. Matt could feel it through the divider and he cursed silently.  _ That’s not how this is supposed to work.  _ The divider was supposed to protect both of them. Matt was supposed to be able to believe that he had anonymity, and he wasn’t supposed to be able to feel himself being judged.

“From what I’ve heard on the news and from the parish, the kitchen is safer than it’s ever been. They say that Daredevil has help. An army.” 

Matt snorted. “When’s the last time anything good came of an army?”

The priest hummed softly - a sound of agreement. Matt wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be able to hear it or not. “So you’re saying that they’re not making the streets safer?”

“Safer for who?” Matt couldn’t help but laugh; the sound was cutting and cold. 

On the other side of the divider, Father Lantom was silent. Waiting.

“I thought I could control them,” Matt continued after a moment’s pause. “It was vanity. Hubris. You don’t control the Hand. I should have known better. The only person I was fooling was myself.”

“Vanity is, of course, a sin.” Father Lantom sighed. “But it’s not one that’s especially new to you, is it now?”

Matthew laughed, this time genuinely. 

“You say you should have known better. Why, then, did you do what you did?”

Matt ran his hands through his hair, feeling it stand on end. That really was the question, wasn’t it? “There were others involved. Others I lo… others I care about. I thought I needed to protect them, and I believed this was the only way.”

“Did you need to protect them?”

“No. They could have protected themselves just fine. And I think I may have hurt them worse by my actions.”

“Why do you think that?”

Matt took a deep breath and pushed his fingers into his temples. “I used to notice them… around. At night. But for the past few weeks there has been nothing. I suspect they’re avoiding me. They should be. I would be, if I were them.”

“At night?” The surprise was evident in Lantom’s voice. “Then they are like you?”

Matt was silent.

“I’m sorry. Of course that is not important and I shouldn’t have asked.” He took a deep breath. “I suspect you are correct, Matthew. You would be avoiding yourself if you were them. Nobody is harder on you than you are on yourself. But, ask yourself this: Would you be avoiding them if the situation was reversed? They are not you - they are still whoever they are - but they are the ones who did what you did.”

“They would never…” Matt tried to interrupt.

“It doesn’t matter. Let’s pretend they did. Would you avoid them?”

Matt dragged his lower lip through his teeth. “No. Never. Not unless…” he let out a small huff of air. “Not unless I thought it was the only way to help them.”

“And is it possible that’s what they’re doing?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Could you talk to them?”

“I don’t deserve…”

“I’m not sure that’s for you to decide, Matthew.” His voice was sharp, and Matthew was momentarily transported back to his childhood. He was thirteen and had been sent to Father Lantom’s office for fighting with whoever about whatever happened to be setting him off that week. It was always something different.

It was always the same thing.

Bloodying his fists was the first thing he ever found that silenced the noises, cut through the stench, and dulled the onslaught of sensation that was his daily life. Later, as he got older, he would find meditation. The clarity of that moment in court when he heard the hitch in his opponents breath and knew he had won. Fucking and being fucked. The cut of rope into his skin. A hand around his throat. But as much as he enjoyed those other things, nothing else brought him the same peace he found as when he threw himself headfirst into a fight. 

“Talk to them. That is your penance.” 

It took Matt a moment to process those words, and by the time he was opening his mouth to question them, Father Lantom was talking again. 

“That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? Penance? To be forgiven? There is no number of Hail Mary’s that is going to fix this, Matthew, and we’re not the kind of church that advocates for self flagellation, although that’s a concept I hesitate to even mention to you.” He was silent, and Matt listened to him drag his hand across his face. “But it’s not me you need forgiveness from, and it’s not God either. It’s not even the people you were trying to protect, although I’m sure that wouldn’t hurt. It’s yourself, Matthew. You are a human and you made a mistake. You have such a huge heart. I watch you forgive everyone around you. You’ve forgiven your mother and me for doing unspeakable things - for lying to you when…” He shook his head. “And now it’s time for you to forgive yourself. And the first step is opening yourself back up to the important people in your life. Sister Maggie told me that you had met someone. That you were happier than she’d ever seen you. Go and find them, and start the process of healing.”

“What if they don’t want to talk to me?” Matt’s voice was little more than a whisper.

“Then you’ll be no worse off than you are now. Shall we pray?”

Matt lowered his head and made the sign of the cross, before folding his hands in his lap. Behind his red-lensed glasses, he didn’t bother closing his eyes.

A wave of hot air hit him as he left the church, the July sun already beating down on the pavement even though it was still morning. The air smelled like potassium nitrate, beer, and expired charcoal grills, and a faint coating of soot filled Matt’s nose when he breathed in. In the distance, he heard the sounds of children on vacation, playing in the street. Most of the neighborhood was still asleep, recovering from a late night of celebrations. 

But Matt was used to late nights.

And he had a lot to do today.

First stop, his office, where  _ thankfully  _ Foggy had listened to him and taken the day off. They had a few cases - nothing overwhelming - and when Foggy had mentioned that he was heading to Cap’s one hundred and first birthday party, Matt had suggested that he might want to take the next day off. Those things tended to go late, and there was always some sort of questionable liquor being served. 

_ There was a time, not that long ago,  _ Matt thought sadly,  _ when I would have been invited too. _

He shook off the thought. There was no time, and it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. He wouldn’t have gone. Couldn’t have gone. Not now. Not when…

He focused on the tasks at hand, detailing every piece of information he’d gleaned about the Fisks over the past several weeks - their plans, and successes, taking out and taking down rivals both in business and in the underworld; their dealings in progress to purchase both Seagate and the Raft; and their development of weapons banned under the Marko-Toomes Act. Once that was done, Matt turned to their current files, completing as much as he could to minimize Foggy’s workload in the upcoming weeks and months.

By the time he left, the sky was already growing dark.

He ignored the grumbling in his stomach - the coffee he’d had before heading to church and the bag of Doritos he’d snagged from Foggy’s desk weren’t nearly enough to sustain him - and instead headed south on foot, a manila envelope full of legal documents clutched tightly to his chest with one hand, cane held loosely in the other. 

He’d only made it a few blocks from his office when she slammed into him, knocking him off his feet. The envelope slid out of his hands, tumbling open, contents falling onto the ground.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry.” She was tall and unusually strong for her slight frame. Matt felt the reverberations of her muscles shift as she helped him to his feet. There was a slight drawl to her voice, and she smelt of expensive lotion and hair products. 

“It’s fine,” Matt said, stooping back down to gather his papers. She joined him, helping him to pick up what had fallen in the collision.

“It’s not fine. Look,” she sighed. “I don’t need any bad press, ok? If there’s something you want, an autograph or something? Maybe we can keep it out of the tabloids that  _ Patsy _ is taking out blind guys on the street.” She said the name with an air of disdain. “They’re already saying I have an anger issue, I don’t need…”

“Excuse me?”

The woman faltered. “I… shit. You don’t have a clue who I am, do you?”

“Should I?”

“No. No, it’s fine.” She huffed out a breath. “God I’m such an ass, I’m sorry. Here.” She pushed some papers into his hand. “Just, I’m sorry alright? Sorry.” She hesitated for just a moment longer, then turned and walked away. 

Matt shoved the disheveled pile of papers back into its envelope, forcing himself not to smile at its measurably decreased thickness. He continued towards his apartment.

Matt listened as he walked. As far as he could tell he wasn’t being followed but, even for him, the Hand’s movements weren’t always that easy to track. He paused at the foot of a swanky office building and reached out with his senses. Nothing. Quickly, he made his way up the stone staircase and into the building. The papers were deposited into a dropbox on the third floor. From there, Matt continued up the stairs, eventually emerging onto the roof. He focused his attention on his own building, five blocks away. Nothing. Matt sat on the edge of the building and waited.

After fifteen minutes of patience, he was rewarded by the sound of combat boots scraping on the rooftop. A key turned in the lock on his skylight. The hinges grated softly as they opened, and he heard a thunk as those boots dropped into his apartment. Fifteen minutes later he heard the boots emerge once again.

“I got it.” Frank’s voice was low and rough. “Everything is clear. Gonna proceed with the plan. Hope that’s still good ‘cause you ain't got any way to tell me otherwise. Take care of yourself, Red.” Frank locked the skylight behind him. There was a gust of wind, and Matt could swear he smelled a whiff of his suit in the air, but it might have been wishful thinking.

He made his way three buildings over before climbing back down to the ground. He considered finding a bite to eat and then heading back to Clinton Church, but decided against it. There was more to be done. Body protesting, he headed towards Midtown.

He heard the tail when he was a block and a half out, and Matt mentally chastised himself. A block and a half was too close; he should have caught it sooner. The man was moving quietly, but the whirr of his hearing aids and the rattle of a broken rib gave him away. Matt considered his options, then paused at a nearby food stand, purchased a falafel sandwich, and sat down on a park bench to wait. 

“You shouldn’t be talking to me out in the open like this,” Clint said, sitting down next to him. 

“Why not? You’re dating my law partner and best friend. Who should I be hiding from?”

“It’s not for your sake. It’s for mine.”

Matt frowned. 

“Nat’s coming for you,” Clint continued. 

“I figured as much.” Matt took another bite of his sandwich. It was soggy and disappointing.

“Yeah, well it’s going to be sooner rather than later, after that stunt you pulled at Oscorp. What the fuck, Matt?”

“That wasn’t me.” Matt took one last bite and wrapped the remainder up. He handed it to Clint, who unwrapped a corner, sniffed it questioningly, then rewrapped it and tossed it across the sidewalk, sinking it effortlessly into a garbage can. “You gotta know that wasn’t me.”

“You telling me that you haven’t been leading the Hand, then? You haven’t been working for Vanessa Fisk?” Clint’s voice changed, bordering on begging. “Please, Matty. Please tell me that. Please tell me that we’ve got this all wrong. That there’s something else going on. That you’ve got any other explanation for what’s happening here.” 

Matt shifted on the bench to face Clint directly. “I’m sorry. I can’t tell you any of that. What I can tell you is that I didn’t have anything to do with what happened at Oscorp.”

Clint sighed and dropped his head into his hands. “That’s not going to be good enough, Matt. Fuck!” Clint raised his head, and Matt could feel the weight of his glare. His anger radiated off of him in heatwaves. “What the fuck were you thinking? And now… There’s nothing I can do, ok? You’ve brought this on yourself.” He stood up to leave, then paused. Without turning he said, quietly, “Please don’t fight us, Matty. Foggy will never forgive me if I have to kill you. You’ve got 24 hours.” 

Matt listened to him walk away, then stood, and continued his walk towards Midtown.

He had anticipated most of it. 

He knew they would find out. They had to. He suspected that it was Natasha who had first put it all together. He wasn’t sure when, but the fact that he  _ hadn’t  _ heard from her was his first clue that she was on to him. He was being too open about it. Too obvious. It didn’t make sense that the Avengers wouldn’t come after him. Not unless they were planning something.

So now he had a deadline. It was fine. He could get everything done tonight.

Matt slowed as he reached his destination, the weight of what he was about to do settling over him. His mind went back to Father Lanton’s words from that morning.  _ It’s not me you need forgiveness from, and it’s not God either. It’s not even the people you were trying to protect. It’s yourself, Matthew. _

He knew what he needed to do to be able to forgive himself.

Absentmindedly, and emboldened by the quiet of the night surrounding him, Matt passed his cane back and forth between his hands, giving it a quick twist, and breaking it in half. He knew that if he survived the night unscathed, which he frankly didn’t have high hopes for, he still wouldn’t be allowed to keep it. He couldn’t. Of course he couldn’t. But if  _ anything  _ good were to come out of all this, it would be this cane. 

Fisk had given it to him  _ as a thank you _ . She wanted to give him something  _ nice.  _ So of course he couldn’t keep it. It was tainted. Still... Matt ran his thumb over a small sensor, set only to respond to him, the long, thin pole began to shift in his hands, each half collapsing down into itself, an inner layer releasing outwards in a wave that tingled as it moved across Matt’s palm, until all traces of a blind man’s cane were gone and what remained were two, solid, adamantium billy-clubs. One of those was designed to split in half again, releasing a thin wire and grappling hook that Matt could use to swing further even than his own rig had let him. He wasn’t quite sure how it worked, the adamantium played tricks on his senses and didn’t let him feel what was happening inside, but the only thing he’d ever held that was more perfectly balanced was Cap’s shield.

He flipped one in his hand, admiring the weight of it, the hiss of the air as the baton sliced through it, the pleasant sound as it fell back into his palm. Then he passed his thumb over the sensor again, felt the clubs shift back to their original states, and clipped them back together. There was no room for Daredevil now. This was a job only Matt Murdock could complete.

There was no sneaking into Avengers Tower. Stark had installed the most high-tech security system in the world, and even if Matt could sense all the pressure and motion sensors, laser trip-wires, and detection drones, he’d never be able to stay out of their sight. Besides, that wasn’t the way. Matt felt a sense of calm wash over him. He was, after-all, the Man the Without Fear. He could handle this. This was nothing. 

He walked up to the front doors, opened them, and stepped into the building.

Immediately, he heard the doors lock behind him.

“Mr. Murdock,” the polite British voice sounded like it was coming from all around him. “I am surprised to see you here.”

“Do you get surprised, Jarvis?” Matt asked.

“If I did, I would certainly be experiencing it now. It is my understanding that you have recently aligned yourself with some unsavory characters. Are you here to do harm? Shall I sound the alarms?”

“If you think it’s necessary,” Matt replied. “I’m here to talk to you, actually. I’m hoping you’ll be willing to help me. Regardless, when we’re done, my plan is to surrender myself to Captain Rogers.”

The AI paused in a way which made Matt feel like Jarvis was considering his options. Or, at least running a statistical analysis of them. Finally, the AI spoke. “I will hear your request.”

***

Matt paused outside Steve and Bucky’s bedroom door. Jarvis had granted him access to their floor, and he’d had no doubt that they would be awake. Sure, it was after 1 am, but the two enhanced men didn’t need a lot of sleep, and Matt knew first hand that they kept late hours. So it came as no surprise to him when, through the closed door, he heard them talking to each other in low, breathy voices.

What he hadn’t anticipated - and he really should have - was Steve being balls deep in Bucky’s ass.

And  _ fuck.  _ He knew first hand how long this could take, and right now he didn’t have time for the delay. 

So he leaned against the wall and waited, at least somewhat patiently, for the first break. It was going to be awkward, but it certainly could be more awkward and what Matt needed couldn’t hold. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, Matt!” Bucky shouted, jumping up off the bed as Matt pushed the door open and walked in. “You’re liable to get shot sneaking in on people like that.”

“Your closest gun fell between the headboard and the wall the last time Steve flipped you,” Matt said with a shrug. “Figured I’d have time to get out of the way if you went for one of the other ones.”

“There’s a warrant out for your arrest, Matt,” Steve said softly, walking towards him, not bothering to cover his nakedness. “And you probably set off security getting up here.”

Matt shook his head and gestured down at his clothes, still dressed for a casual day at the office. “There’s a warrant out for Daredevil’s arrest, but not Matt Murdock’s.”

“Matt...”

Matt raised an eyebrow at Bucky questioningly.

“You know as well as I do that’s the same thing,” he clarified.

Matt hummed noncommittally. 

“What’s going on?” Steve hadn’t stepped away, and Matt could feel the heat pouring off of him. He smelled like sex and Bucky, and the disappointment in his voice had Matt wanting to drop to his knees. Muscle memory, he supposed. Also, he hadn’t been with anyone for close to three months now and it was doing things to him. 

“Bucky actually beat me to it,” Matt admitted. “I’m here because I need you to arrest me.”

“On what grounds?” Bucky asked. “You said it yourself, there is a warrant out for Daredevil’s arrest - not Matt Murdock’s.”

Matt kept his voice steady. “It have heard it suggested that we might be the same person.”

“Matt.” Steve placed a large hand on his shoulder. “What’s going on? You can’t possibly mean this. I know you’ve been going through some things but…”

“It’s ok.” Matt took a step back, detaching himself from Steve. The touch was too much and he didn’t want to want. Not now. Not like this. Bucky seemed to finally realize they were naked, and he disappeared into their closet, returning with two pairs of sweatpants. He tossed one pair to Steve, and slipped the other on himself. “I know what I’m doing,” Matt said as they were dressing. “I really do. And I can explain it all to you, as soon as you have me in custody.”

“We can try to protect you,” Steve said quietly.

“Thanks,” Matt replied, even as he began to shake his head. He paused, cocking his head to the side, then smiled slightly. 

“What…?” 

Matt held up a finger, silencing him. There was a moment’s awkward silence before the door came crashing in.

“Hey Nat,” Matt said sheepishly, before she pulled her hand back and slapped him with all of her strength.

“What the fuck are you trying to pull?” 

Matt couldn’t help but smile as he wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth. “Did I wreck your plan?”

“Did you…?” Natasha was fuming. “This isn’t a game, Matthew. We’re not playing spies here. I was trying to  _ help  _ you.”

“I’ve taken care of it.”

“You’ve  _ taken care of it _ ,” Natasha parroted back at him. “Taken care of it how, exactly? Jesus Christ, Matthew. I could have protected you. Now…” She gestured at the door, where Coulson and two additional Agents of SHIELD were walking into the apartment. 

“Jarvis?” Bucky said quietly. “Did we forget to lock down the floor this evening?”

“You did, Sir,” Jarvis confirmed.

Bucky huffed.

“I’m going to need to ask you to come with us, Mr. Murdock.” Coulson’s voice was as controlled as ever, and Matt always had a hard time reading him. The woman next to him seemed just as in control, although Matt could feel her anger. He remembered being introduced to her once. Mindy May or Matilda May. Something like that. The third agent was someone Matt didn’t recognize - a younger woman. Her wrists were wrapped in some sort of metallic and leather bands, and her entire body vibrated with an energy that made Matt’s head spin.

“Of course,” Matt replied calmly. “I’m happy to cooperate with SHIELD in any way that I can.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, as always, for reading and for leaving any comments you have! As was the case last week, I am balls deep in final papers (writing and grading) so I can't PROMISE an update next Friday, but I will do my best. I am, like most creators I know, excessively motivated by feedback, so keep those comments coming!
> 
> If you're interested in the backstory between Matt, Steve, and Bucky, check out  The Devil Makes Three , which is a pile of beautiful smut that I wrote for my Beta, HaniTrash's birthday.


	21. Twenty-One

“Damnit, Matthew!” Coulson slammed his fist onto the table between them. “I thought you said you wanted to cooperate with SHIELD?”

Matt didn’t react. Yes, it had been fun to watch the normally exceptionally cool agent fall apart in front of him, but now he was tired, his body ached from sitting in the uncomfortable chair for the past - by his estimate - four hours, and he was starving. As if on command, his stomach growled audibly. 

“I am cooperating,”he sighed. “I’ve given you enough information to put away Vanessa Fisk for three lifetimes. That is what I came here to do. I did not come here to incriminate myself by confessing to being Daredevil!”

“But you are Daredevil!” Coulson practically shouted.

Matt crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned back into his chair. 

“Fine.” Coulson took a deep breath and pressed his fingers into his temples. “Fine. Ok. Let’s just take this one last time, for my sake, from the top.”

“One last time,” Matt repeated. “One  _ final  _ time, then I get a break, and some food, and a place to rest. I don’t think I need to remind you how aware I am of my rights here.”

“And yet you keep reminding us anyway,” the third agent - Daisy Johnson, Matt had learned - grumbled from where she was sitting in the corner. 

“Fine,” Coulson agreed. “From the top. You originally met Vanessa Fisk when she came to your apartment approximately three months ago?” 

“No,” Matt corrected. “Agent Coulson, please. If you’re trying to trick me into slipping up…” Matt took off his glasses, pinched the bridge of his nose, and then replaced them. “I originally met Vanessa Fisk when I went to her art gallery as a part of my investigation of her husband, Wilson Fisk. She and her husband became aware of me due to the small role I played in having Wilson Fisk convicted for violation of housing zoning codes, extortion, money laundering, drug trafficking, racketeering, and murder.”

“So modest,” May muttered loud enough that Matt would have been able to hear her even if he wasn’t enhanced.

“At that time,” Matt continued, ignoring her, “there was not enough evidence to connect Vanessa Marianna Fisk to Wilson Fisk’s crimes.”

“Even though they were married?” Coulson prompted.

“Poor taste in a romantic partner is not, as of this time, a crime.” 

Agent Johnson snorted.

“Approximately three months ago, Vanessa Fisk visited my apartment, where she threatened my then current, now former, romantic partners.”

May raised an eyebrow. “Partners?” She clarified.

“Polyamory is also not a crime,” Matt said, straight faced. “She threatened one of the men with expulsion from his University. The other was threatened with physical harm.” Matt lowered his head, and struggled to maintain his composure. That was more information than he’d given the previous three times they’d gone over this story. “I was informed that the only way they would be spared was if I cooperated and assisted Mrs. Fisk in her plans to take down Norman Osborn and several other business and criminal enterprises with which she and her husband have had dealings, as well as to assist her in the purchase of the privately held prison, Seagate, and the holding area known as the raft.”

Coulson leaned in. “And the Fisks thought Daredevil could help them how?”

“NO!” Matt slapped his open palm down onto the cold metal surface of the table. “Not Daredevil. Me. They wanted my knowledge as a lawyer.”

“The Fisks can afford the best lawyers money can buy. Why you?”

“Because I beat them. They wanted to see me suffer. And because I’m good at what I do.”

“And because they wanted Daredevil leading the Hand?”

“That has absolutely nothing to do with this conversation.”

Coulson sighed. “Ok. Let’s take it back two steps. You said they threatened your romantic  _ partners. _ ” He emphasized the word, and Matt wanted to punch him. “Who are they?”

“Excuse me?”

“Who are they?” Coulson repeated.

“I can’t see how that bears any relevance on…”

“Maybe it does; maybe it doesn’t.” Coulson shrugged. “Why don’t you leave that for me to decide? Unless you’re afraid that I’ll reach out to them, and that  _ they  _ will reveal that you’re Daredevil.”

“You can’t ask them.”   
  
“Oh? Is that a touchy subject for you, Mr. Murd…”   


“No,” Matt interrupted. “I mean, you can’t ask them legally. Paragraph 27, Subsection C of the Amended Sokovia Accords clearly states that an enhanced or powered individual cannot be compelled to reveal the name of another enhanced or powered individual, and furthermore, since failure to respond could be perceived as confirmation by omission, it is prohibited by the Accords to even ask enhanced individuals such questions.”

Coulson blinked at him. “Are you… are you saying that your partners..”

“Former partners.”

“Whatever. Are you saying that they’re enhanced?”

Matt nodded.

“Who?”

“Peter Parker, and Wade Wilson.”

Coulson took a step back from the desk. Matt could hear the man’s heart pounding. Under her breath, May muttered “shit.” Nowhere near as quietly, Daisy chimed in with her own “nice.”

“How… When?” Coulson took a deep breath. “Ok. So if you’re not Daredevil, which I don't believe for one second, how do you end up dating Spider-Man and Deadpool?”

“Tony Stark introduced me to Pete,” Matt answered him. “He sent Pete to my office with some pictures that Tony knew would help me and my law partner with a case we’d been working on. Over the course of the conversation, Pete revealed to me that he was Spider-Man.”

“Why would Tony Stark be referring Peter Parker to you? How do you and Mr. Stark know each other? I know you have access to the tower. It doesn’t make sense; the Avengers don’t need some local, small time lawyer.”

Matt sighed. “As I am sure you are well aware, Agent Coulson, not so long ago I defended Mr. Barnes from treason. I worked directly with Tony on revising the accords. I am not just some local, small time lawyer.”

“You’re a hotshot lawyer who works with enhanced people because he’s also Daredevil.”

Matt groaned and dragged his hand through his hair. “I’m a good lawyer who cares about helping people. That’s it.”

“And what about Deadpool? How did you meet him.”

“That was a coincidence.” Matt leaned back in his chair. God, he was exhausted. He had never been in an interrogation this long, and he realized he probably owed Jessica an apology. He understood, now, all those times she’d snapped on the cops. “He just happened to be on my roof one night. He was loud. I went to check out what was happening.”

“You went out on your roof?”

“You can access it from my library,” Matt confirmed. “I’m sure you noticed that when you performed an illegal search of my apartment. An illegal search that didn’t reveal any evidence of my being Daredevil, I’m going to assume.”

Coulson was silent.

“Anyway I went out on the roof to see who was tromping around up there and met Deadpool. He fed me tacos. My understanding is he met Spider-Man while they were both out on patrol, but you’ll want to confirm that with them. Are they still together?”

“Yeah,” Coulson said quietly. 

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“Why,” and Coulson’s voice was more tentative than Matt had ever heard it, “why didn’t you ask for help? If Vanessa Fisk was threatening Spider-Man, why wouldn’t you have come to SHIELD, or talked to the Captain, or gotten any help at all? Why would you have just gone along with it?”

Matt set his jaw and pointed his eyes directly at the large, one-way mirror that he could hear Cap and Bucky standing behind. “I should have. I recognize that now. I thought… I wasn’t behaving rationally, but I thought that I could handle it on my own. I thought that I could get in, figure out what the Fisks were up to, and get out. I managed the first two. By the time I realized I couldn’t do the third on my own, it was too late. It was a mistake, and it’s something that I will likely never forgive myself for. I’m trying to do the right thing now, though. That’s why I turned myself in.”

Coulson sat down in the chair opposite from Matt and dropped his head into his hands. The door behind him opened, and Cap and Bucky walked into the small room. 

“Alright,” Cap said, his low voice booming in the small space. “That’s enough for now, Agent. Let’s let the man get some rest.” 

For a second, Matt thought Coulson was going to argue, then his body relaxed and he nodded once, curtly. “I’ll escort him to a holding cell.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Bucky replied. “We’ve set up an extra apartment for him.”

“An apartment? You can’t be serious. After what happened at Oscorp, we can’t let…”

“You have no evidence that was him,” Steve interrupted. “Mr. Murdock is a personal friend, and from everything I’ve seen tonight, he’s fully cooperating. He won’t be able to leave his quarters, and Jarvis will be watching him the entire time he is here. There is no reason to lock him in a cell.” Matt felt a large, warm hand on his shoulder. “Come on, Matt. Let’s get you to bed.”

Matt stood and accepted his cane when Bucky handed it to him, but didn’t unfold it. His fingers itched to open it one last time, but he resisted and followed Steve out of the interrogation room. When the door clicked shut behind him, he passed it back to Bucky. “Give that to Tony.”

He could feel Bucky appraising him, before grunting softly. “Whatever you want, Matt.” He moved down the hallway, Matt and Steve following them. Matt couldn’t help but notice that, without saying a word, Bucky and Steve had arranged themselves so they were surrounding him. 

“Can I talk to them?” he asked, as the elevator doors closed behind them.

Steve sighed. “No. You can’t.” 

“Just for a minute. Or, if you could deliver a message, I could…”   
  
“Matt,” Steve interrupted. “We’ve got a room set up for you because you’re our friend, and because I know that you wouldn’t be able to sleep on the hard mattress of a holding cell, but that doesn’t mean you’re not in trouble. I watched you blatantly lie to Agent Coulson…”

“...I didn’t lie!”

“Withhold information, then. With intent to deceive. I want to believe that you had nothing to do with Oscorp, Matt. I really do, but even if I did - ” 

“Could you at least tell them that I’m in the building?”

“Even if I did,” Steve continued, uninterrupted, “I still wouldn’t want to tell them.”

Matt felt dizzy on his feet, like he might be hyperventilating. 

“You hurt Pete so badly.” Bucky said softly, and there was something in his voice that Matt hadn’t ever heard before. “I don’t know if it was a game for you, or another one of your conquests, but it wasn’t like that for him. He’s still not over your leaving, and we’re not going to add to that pain.”

They’re mad at him, Matt realized. Not for Oscorp. Not for the Hand. But for the way he treated their teammate. It seemed like ages ago, when Wade had carried Pete into his apartment, and Matt had blamed Bucky with every ounce of his being for abandoning him when he’d needed someone to have his back, and now - Matt realized far too late - he’d done the same thing but one hundred times worse. He started to panic. “Even if you could just tell Wade that SHIELD has me in custody, I -”

“No, Matt. The answer is no.” Steve’s voice was firm. His Captain America voice. 

The elevator door slid open, and Matt felt really and truly blind as he walked through them and into the hallway. This wasn’t like the Avengers’ quarters, where each apartment occupied a full floor, and Steve led him to the first doorway on the left. Matt’s head was spinning, senses overwhelmed both from exhaustion and the mind-numbing realization of what was going to come next. He was sure Pete and Wade hated him already, but if they didn’t, they certainly would when his plan had been fully realized.

Steve pressed his hand against a panel next to the door and Matt heard a faint beep and whir as the doors unlocked. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Matt vaguely processed the information that it was Steve’s hand and not his that unlocked the door. He was, after all, a prisoner. This was a nice cell, but it was a cell nonetheless. He allowed himself to be guided through the door and into a spacious apartment. He could feel the open floor plan, but didn’t bother to map it out now. It didn’t matter. 

“Do you want a shower?” Matt heard Bucky ask, and his voice sounded like it was traveling through cotton to reach Matt’s ears. 

Matt shook his head no, felt a hand on his lower back guiding him until they were in a smaller room, and then his legs bumped into a mattress and he collapsed onto the bed in front of him. Not even bothering to kick off his shoes, Matt pressed his face into the silk sheets beneath his cheek and fell immediately into a deep, dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short chapter, and for that I'm sorry, but it was this or nothing. 
> 
> First paper is in, final grades are due Monday, second paper is due the following Tuesday. To quote that one movie I totally deny the last 15 minutes of, "We're in the endgame now."
> 
> All your kind comments and feedback totally keep me going! I adore all of you!!!!


	22. Twenty-Two

Matt knew he was dreaming.

They’d warned him, after the accident, when he was a kid, to expect strange dreams. Vivid dreams. Nightmares, even. They said it was common - that his brain used dreams as a way to work out the changes in sensory stimulus. They said it would get better, as he got older, as his brain got used to being blind. 

They were right for all except the last part. 

His nightmares got different as he got older. They became less visual as he forgot the exact color of the leaves on the trees outside his Sunday School window, the intensity of a sunset over the Hudson river, hue of his father’s eyes. They became less visual, but they never got better. Instead, he was assaulted by swirls of sounds and smells, the feeling of something unknowable unfurling across his skin, the taste of something putrid in the back of his throat. Different, yes; better… no. 

So Matt taught himself to control the dreams. He mastered lucid dreaming, controlling the dream, shifting it when he could and waking himself when he couldn’t. It was hard to go back to sleep sometimes, after, but that was fine. He didn’t sleep that much anyway.

This, however, was not that.

This was the other kind of dream. The kind he clung to. The kind he would pray for if he didn’t know there were so many other people out there, more deserving of his prayers.

This was the kind of dream where he could see. 

He was walking through Fogwell's. Posters with blurred bodies lined the brick walls, each one holding the promise of potentially being his father. Light streamed in through the windows, catching dust in the air and making it sparkle. The ring was dark and cool, and Matt was drawn to it like an oasis in the desert. He’d had this dream many times before, but as his feet carried him effortlessly towards the rink, he realized something was different this time. He was bigger than usual - not the sighted child to whom this memory belonged, but himself as he was now.

And he wasn’t alone.

Matt stepped up into the ring where the other two men stood, waiting for him. One was small, with dark wavy hair and the body of a dancer. The other was tall with thighs like tree trunks and skin that Matt knew would be surprisingly smooth if he could just get close enough to touch. The sunlight shone down on both of them. It was too bright. It pricked at Matt’s eyes, making him squint and blurring the faces he so desperately wanted to see. Matt’s feet felt like they’d been dipped in cement as he struggled to get closer, to touch, to  _ see… _

When he realized his feet wouldn’t take him any further, Matt dropped to his knees. The smaller man stepped forward. He was completely backlit, and the sun shone through his hair turning it golden, surrounding his head like a halo. A shadow fell across his face as he reached out his hand. Matt didn’t even realize he was crying until he felt Pete’s strong, nimble fingers brushed through the wetness on his cheek. 

“Matty.”

“I’m so sorry,” he sobbed, reaching out and wrapping his arms around Pete’s legs. “God, I’m so sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen. Not like this.”

“Shhh…” Pete ran his fingers through Matt’s hair, soothing him. “None of that matters anymore.”

“No, you don’t understand,” Matt choked out, clinging to Pete’s legs for dear life, burying his face in Pete’s thighs. “It’s not over. Frank, he’s going to…”

“It’s not important.” Matt looked up to see that Wade had moved to stand behind Pete, a dark silhouette against the bright background, his shadow doing nothing to block the ethereal light that seemed to emanate from Pete. He placed a strong hand on Matt’s shoulder. “Close your eyes, baby.”

“No,” Matt whispered. “Please don’t make me. Please. I want…”

“You know it doesn’t work that way.” Pete’s voice was as gentle as his fingers, scratching along Matt’s scalp. Wade’s hand trailed up from his shoulder to his chin, and Matt trembled under the combined weight of their attention.

He nodded, then closed his eyes.

Pete’s lips were on his in a second - soft and warm - the memory of their shape etched permanently into Matt’s mind. He gasped into the kiss, opening his mouth slightly when Pete licked along the seam of his lips, reveling in the sensation of Pete’s tongue as it flicked into his mouth, his sweet scent filling Matt’s nose. He felt Wade shifting behind him, and then warm hands were firm on his chest. Suddenly Matt was shirtless, as Wade ran kisses down the side of his neck and over his shoulder, sucking a deep bruise into his shoulder blade. 

“Keep your eyes closed, ok?” Pete pulled away just long enough to speak, before he was slotting their lips together again, pressing his chest up against Matt’s, Wade’s hands moving to Pete’s back. “I think,” Pete nipped at Matt’s lip and then groaned as Matt kissed across his jaw to his ear. 

Matt sat back, finding Wade’s thighs and resting on them, pulling Pete onto his lap as he moved.

“I think,” Pete started again, “that if you open your eyes we’ll have to go. And I don’t want to, Matty. Please, I don’t want to go.” 

“Never going to let you go,” Matt growled. “Gonna stay here forever, just the three of us.”

“Darkness,” Wade’s hands drifted down from Wade’s chest and across his abs, eventually stilling on his hips. “Can’t stay here forever. You know that.”

“We can.” Matt twisted, arching his back to kiss Wade awkwardly. Frantically. “I will. If that’s what it takes to be with you.

Pete trapped Matt’s chin with his thumb and forefinger, turning Matt’s head back to face him for one more deep, slow, wet kiss, before lifting himself effortlessly off Matt’s lap. Wade’s hands tightened on his hips, and then Matt felt himself being lifted, turned, positioned so he was straddling Wade’s legs. Wade’s hands came to Matt’s ass and pulled him close and -  _ oh  _ \- the friction on Matt’s cock was almost too much even as he couldn’t stop himself from rutting against Wade’s abs. He felt Pete press up against his back, hot and hard and  _ yes. God, please, yes. Please. _

Wade was soothing him before he even realized he was talking out loud, babbling praise and need between kisses. “It’s ok, baby. Shh… It’s not your fault, ok. Don’t blame yourself when we’re gone. There’s nothing you could have done.”

“What do you mean gone?” Matt panicked, eyes flying open. “Wade!!”

“Matt?”

He shook his head, trying to bring his surroundings into focus, his senses working overtime to make up for his sleep-addled brain and the unfamiliar space. The room was too big - too empty…

“Matthew?” the voice called again.

_ Natasha.  _ He was being held at Avengers Tower.

He’d been dreaming.

And now he wasn’t anymore.

“No…” Matt whimpered softly. 

“Matthew Michael Murdock, what in the hell are you…”

“I’m in here,” Matt cut her off. He’d at least managed to slip off his shoes sometime in the night, and now he quickly drew the covers up and around himself. “I’m in here.”

“Well then why didn’t you answer?” She asked, while simultaneously pushing open the door. “And how the hell did you confuse me for Deadpool?”

“I was sleeping. That’s the answer to both of those questions, by the way. I was asleep, and I was dreaming.”

He could feel Natasha arc an eyebrow at him. “You need a minute?”

“Of course not,” Matt answered, then grimaced as he sat up in bed. He was, in fact, still very hard. “Maybe,” he answered again with a blush.

“Gross.” She sat down cross legged on the foot of his bed. “What the hell are you doing here, Matt?”

“I was under the impression I was being held here, but if you’re saying I’m free to leave…”   
  
“Don’t be a dick.” Natasha swatted his ankle through the covers. “Why did you turn yourself in?”

Matt frowned, lowering his head as he thought. Finally he raised his eyes and cocked his head to the side, focusing on Natasha. “Because it was the right thing to do.” 

“You’re a fucking martyr.”

He didn’t respond.   
  
“I saw the information you gave to Coulson,” Natasha continued after a moment’s pause. “It’s good. It’s enough to get Vanessa Fisk put away for a long time, but you need to tell me what else you have planned.”

“There’s nothing else.”

“I know you better than that, Matt. There’s always something else.”

“There’s nothing else,” he repeated firmly. 

Matt’s stomach growling interrupted the silence that grew between them. 

“Fine,” Natasha said, not sounding at all fine, and rising from the bed. “Get up. Get cleaned up and I’ll make you something to eat. You look like shit, Murdock.”

Matt stayed in bed for a minute longer, mapping out the apartment in his head. It was small for the tower, but still bigger than his own place. The single bedroom was big, and the attached bath had both a shower and a tub. Outside the bedroom, there was an open concept living and kitchen area, with a second smaller room and a half bath. It was, all things considered, the most luxurious cell Matt could imagine. 

He sighed and clambered out of the large bed. If he hadn’t been sure of where he stood with Natasha, the fact that they were apparently now on a last-name basis told him everything he needed to know. And last night… last night Steve had refused to pass a message on to Pete and Wade letting them know that he’d been taken into custody. He turned on the large shower and shucked off his clothes while he waited for the water to get warm. 

Each drop of water struck him like a tiny razor blade as he stepped under the shower’s spray, but he didn’t bother looking for a way to adjust the flow. Getting dressed-down by Natasha had taken care of the majority of his erection, and he let the sharp sting on his sensitive skin handle the rest. He wasn’t about to consider jerking off to the memory of his dream; Wade and Pete deserved better than that. 

Matt groped around in the shower, the sound and feel overwhelming his senses, until his hands found a built-in shelf with several bottles. He picked one up and ran his fingers over the label - conditioner. He set it back on the shelf, picked up the second bottle, and - discovering it was shampoo - dispensed a small amount into his hand and began to wash his hair. 

After he was all done, having identified shampoo, conditioner, and three different kinds of soap (and what did people need three different kinds of soap for, anyway?), Matt arranged everything carefully on the shelf to save himself time in the future, stepped out of the shower, and dried himself off. It wasn’t until he was out of the bathroom entirely that he realized he didn't have any clothes beyond what he’d worn in the night before. Scanning the room, he felt the air shift around a wooden dresser against the far wall. He focused, and smelt the faint odor of cotton and a neutral laundry detergent drifting from its drawers. He walked over, and pulled out a pair of flannel pajama pants and a soft t-shirt. They smelled clean and freshly washed, but otherwise neutral, and Matt was sure nobody had worn them before. He wondered briefly, as he pulled them on, if they had been ordered especially for him after he’d turned himself in last night, or if Stark just kept a small clothing store on hand in case it was needed. 

He walked out of the bedroom and found Nat plating up sandwiches at the kitchen counter. “Turkey for breakfast?” he asked, taking one and digging in. She set a mug of tea down next to him and he breathed in the steam.  _ English Breakfast, perfectly prepared. _

“It’s almost 7:00 p.m.,” Natasha replied, taking a bite of her own sandwich.

Matt froze, sandwich half way up to his mouth. “You’re shitting me.”

“Nope.” Natasha popped her p. “Why? You got plans for tonight?”

Matt shook his head and took another bite of sandwich.  _ You don’t have plans,  _ he reminded himself.  _ It’s too soon for Frank to do anything. _

“Well the fridge is stocked,” Natasha continued. Matt could feel her staring at him, searching for any sign of reaction. “And if there’s something you want, all you have to do is tell Jarvis.”

“Why?” Matt asked, before he shoved the remainder of the sandwich into his mouth. God, he was starving. 

“Why what?”

Matt walked to the fridge, opened it, and traced his hands over the contents. There were boxes containing what appeared to be prepared meals, each labeled with its contents in braille. Outside of that, there were the sandwich ingredients Nat had pulled out, a large container of cut vegetables, and some glass bottles that Matt suspected were beer. A bowl containing apples and oranges sat on the counter, and next to that was a loaf of bread and a bottle that Matt was 98% positive contained some very expensive whiskey. 

“Why… all this?” He gestured vaguely at the kitchen and beyond, then grabbed a box labeled Caesar Salad with Chicken and headed back to the counter. “This isn’t how you treat a prisoner, Nat.”

“You’re not a prisoner,” she said, picking up her own mug of tea and taking a sip.

“Then I can leave?”   
  
“No.”

“That’s what a prisoner is.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Matthew!” She slammed her mug back down on the counter. “You’re the one who turned yourself in. How did you think this was going to go down?”

Matt took another bite of his salad, running his free hand through his hair. It must be really bad if Natasha was getting this worked up. “So what happens next,” he asked after swallowing. 

“I don’t know.” And Matt could tell she wasn’t lying. “Coulson can’t prove you’re Daredevil, but he knows you are.”

“I’m not Daredevil.”

She sighed and rolled her eyes so hard Matt could hear it. “Whatever. He very strongly suspects you are. Can you tell me what you’re playing at?”

“Don’t you know?”

Natasha stopped in her tracks, then barked out a laugh. “You got me, Murdock. You fucking got me. Is that what you’ve been shooting for this whole time? Get me backed into a corner where I can’t lie my way out of a question because you’d know? Fine. You win. No, I don’t know what you’re playing at. Nobody knows what you’re playing at. Tony thinks you’ve gone off the deep end, and Steve is afraid you’ve been playing us this whole time and Bucky… Bucky’s bet is on demonic possession because he can't imagine that _anyone_ would willingly work for an organization like the Hand. Oh, and Clint’s afraid to take a stand because he doesn’t want to piss off his boyfriend. So no. Nobody knows what you’re up to. Is that what you want to hear? Can you smell the truth on me, or whatever it is you do?” She didn’t give him a chance to answer, but instead turned and walked out the door.

Matt stood still for a moment, listening to her steps as they disappeared down the hallway. So they didn’t know. That was a good thing. Plausible deniability. If Matt was going to go down, he certainly was going to do his best not to take anyone else with him. He finished his salad in silence, then sat down on the ground in the living room, leaned his head against the wall, and listened to the sounds of his city.

Nobody came to visit him on his second day there. On the third day, Bucky stopped by just as Matt was finishing eating dinner and starting to wonder if it was too early to crack open a fourth beer. 

“Natalia’s pissed at you,” Bucky informed him, dropping the heavy bag he had effortlessly slung over his shoulder onto the floor. “And Jarvis told me you asked for exercise equipment, so I brought you this. Where do you want me to hang it?”

Matt froze for just a second. He most definitely had not asked for exercise equipment. “Anywhere,” he replied, quickly regaining his composure. “Wherever you think makes the most sense.”

Bucky eyed him suspiciously. “This wasn’t what you were expecting?”

“No,” Matt lied. “I thought you’d bring me some weights or something. This is better; thank you.” Matt could hear that Bucky wasn’t buying it. “Nat told me you think I’m possessed by the devil?” He tried to change the subject.

Bucky snorted. “I said I was worried you’d been brainwashed. ‘Snot exactly the same.”

“Close, though. I’m sorry, Bucky. I would have told you if I thought I could…”

“Save it,” Bucky cut him off. He had some sort of drone and was using it to affix a hook to the ceiling, which he promptly hung the bag from. “You wanna work for some evil organization, that’s up to you. There are consequences, of course, but at least you had a choice.”

Matt said nothing, having diverted the conversation a bit too effectively. 

“You need anything else?”

Matt shook his head no.

“Fine. Then I’ll see ‘ya around. Word on the street is Coulson’s getting closer to whatever it is he thinks he needs. Nobody’s said anything to him yet, far as I’m aware, but he’s smart.” Bucky left as quickly as he’d come.

“Jarvis?” Matt said tentatively, as soon as he heard Bucky step onto the elevator.

“Yes, Mr. Murdock?”

“Thank you.”

“Of course, Mr. Murdock.”

He was quiet for several minutes, then: “Jarvis?”

“Yes, Mr. Murdock?”

“Can these windows open?”

There was a moment’s pause, and then the large window slid open an inch and the previously sterile room was filled with the sounds and smells of New York. 

“Thank you, Jarvis.”

“Of course, Mr. Murdock.”

Matt sat down on the couch, then laid his head back and kicked his feet up, listening to the city. His window faced to the northwest, and there was a breeze blowing in that carried with it the sounds and smells of everything happening between him and Hell’s kitchen. It was early. Probably 7 by his estimate. He leaned back, closed his eyes, and waited. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone, I cannot with this amazing art created by deadpool-art. Check them out on Tumblr. All of their work is phenomenal and I am not worthy!!!!


	23. Twenty-Three

Wade pulled open the large glass doors with a flourish, grinning from ear to ear. It was hidden by his mask, obviously, but he liked to think that everyone could tell anyway. He hummed softly to himself, a bounce in his step. It was after 5 pm, but the lobby of Avengers tower was still bustling with activity as smartly dressed SHIELD agents scurried about, carrying paperwork and looking subtly deadly. “Roz, sweetheart! How’s it going?” Wade called out, shooting finger guns at a young woman with short, brown, wavy hair. She stared back at him blankly, nose crinkling in confusion. “Bobbi! Baby!” Wade held up a hand for the blonde woman to high five. She eyed him once over suspiciously, and kept walking. “It’s cool,” Wade said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Your hands are full. I got you!” He high-fived himself, clapping his hands together over his head dramatically. “Yo! Bird Brain!” Wade held out his arms wide at Sam Wilson’s approach.

“Man, keep your voice down! You’re causing a scene.” Sam emphatically pushed one of Wade’s arms down. “People are trying to work here. You can’t just come in and start shouting! Plus, you’re making a mess.” He looked past Wade’s shoulder to the trail of bloody footprints that he’d been leaving behind.

“Oops!” Wade looked around frantically. “Is there like a mop or something? I could…”

“Damn right you could!” Sam nodded at an agent who went scurrying off. “Bringing your nasty ass in here bleeding everywhere.”

“Oh, this isn’t mine…”

“That’s not better!” Same interrupted, as the agent hustled back pushing a mop bucket. “Now clean your shit up and then go around the building and come in through the back entrance so you can get decontaminated.”

_ [He said back entrance.] _

_ Not. Now.  _

Wade whistled cheerfully as he mopped, good mood completely unfazed by what he considered a very minor scolding by The Falcon. When he reached the front door, he leaned the mop up against the wall and then waved happily at two agents, a man and a woman, walking across the lobby. “Hey! Fiz! Simmons! My OTP! I’m just gonna leave this here, ok?!”

The agents blinked at him. “Yes?” the woman said tentatively after a moment’s pause, her eyes wide and her voice pleasantly British.

“Thanks!! Have a great day!! Pip pip cheerio!!” He scurried out of the lobby and skipped across the lawn towards a set of heavy, black metal doors. Pulling a glove off with his teeth, Wade pressed his thumb against the scanner and practically did a dance of joy when the light flashed from red to green and the lock clicked open. Why he hadn’t gone this way in the first place was beyond him. The security system at Avengers Tower not only recognized him, but then also STILL LET HIM IN! That would never stop being cool. 

The doors opened automatically and Wade danced through them. “If you wanna be my lover,” he sang to himself, as he did a little spin, “you gotta get with my OOF!” He collided into Sam Wilson. The man crossed his arms in front of him and glared. 

_ [This guy again? Has he even been in this fic before now? What is this, the “The Author Gives A Shout Out To All Her Favorite Minor Characters” chapter? First Roz Solomon and Mockingbird, then FitzSimmons, and now we have extended Sam Wilson scenes? Give me a break and get back to the plot! I seem to remember the last chapter ending on a cliffhanger!!] _

_ Did you just call Sam Wilson a minor character? _

_ [No, I just…] _

_ Because neither the author nor I agree with the assessment that Sam Wilson is a minor character, and we will not be held responsible for any reader ire stemming from that statement. _

_ [Just get on with the story, is all I’m saying.] _

“Whose blood?” 

“What’s that, lovebird?”

Sam sighed and rolled his eyes. “Whose blood? You said it wasn’t yours, so whose is it?”

“Oh,” Wade looked down at himself. Yeah, he was pretty gross, wasn’t he. He pulled a small hand towel out of one of his pouches and wiped himself down as best he could, then looked up at Sam and shrugged. “I don’t know, a few different people?” 

Sam shook his head. “You can’t just… Come on, Wade. We talked about this. You know you can’t go around killing people if you’re going to be staying in the tower, I -”    


“Hold on,” Wade interrupted, taking a step back and holding up his hands. “Who said anything about killing? First off, I don’t like that word, but second, no I did not!!! Did I cut off a few hands, yes, of course, but I also tied the remaining arm stubs off in a tourniquet before leaving the bad guys for the cops. And was it overkill to cut off that one guy’s left nut? Maybe. But they were dealing in kids, Sammy boy. Kids. And I’m not going to let that happen to anyone ever again do you understand? I know first hand--” 

_ [Shut it!] _

Wade clasped a hand over his masked mouth, slamming it shut.

“What do you know first hand?” Sam asked, features softening into something sad. 

“Nothing. I know nothing. It’s fine, ok? I just… damn it!" Wade sniffled. "I was having a good day and I was really happy because I  _ didn’t _ unalive anyone even though these guys were monsters, and Petey Pie was going to be so proud of me and now you’ve gone and ruined it.” 

Sam moved as if he wanted to put a hand on Wade’s arm, then pulled back. “Sorry, man. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Wade shrugged, good mood instantly restored. “So what do I gotta do here? Decontaminize? I’ve got a great big shower up in my apartment!”

“Yeah, we just like to be sure before we bring anything potentially harmful into the tower. Jarvis?”

_ What the fuck?!? _

_ [Just hold still, asshole.] _

Wade tried not to squirm as bright green laser lines criss-crossed over his body. 

“All clear, sirs,” Jarvis’s cool voice came from overhead.

“So I’m good?”

“Yeah, sure. You can either use the team showers or you can head up to you and Pete’s floor. Whatever you want.”

“Team showers, huh?” Wade winked at him, still hidden behind the mask. “Sounds like that’s a different fic! I’d better head upstairs.”

“A different…? You know what? Never mind. I don’t think I want to know.” 

Wade saluted him sharply, before skipping off to the elevator. “See ya’ round, America’s Ass Version 2.0!” he shouted back over his shoulder, as the doors closed behind him. “Jarvis, please take me home.”

“Of course, Mr. Wilson.”

“Hey now, we’ve talked about this.”

“Of course, my dope-ass fresh prince.”

“Damn straight.”

After a few moments on the elevator, the doors opened and Wade slid out into his apartment. “Honey, I’m home!” he called out, pulling off his mask. 

“Hi!” Pete popped up from where he’d been lying on the couch, reading. From his current angle, Wade could only see Pete’s head, the rest of him obscured by the back of the couch. 

_ [Just like an adorable fucking prairie dog!] _

“Don’t get up, handsome. I’m all gross. I’m gonna go take a shower and then I’m going to come right back here and snuggle the shit out of you.”

Pete smiled and, Jesus fuck, Wade didn’t want to be sappy, but it just lit up the entire goddamned room. Also, who was he kidding? He  _ lived  _ to be sappy.

“I fucking love you, baby boy. So much.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Go clean yourself up and then come show me how much!”

Wade made a small, happy, squeaking noise, and then hurried off towards the bedroom. He paused, momentarily, in front of the door to the master bedroom, before hurrying along to the second bedroom. They’d decided that it was easier to move the bed versus the trampoline, and so the master bedroom had become the trampoline room and they were now sleeping in the second bedroom. It still had an ensuite shower, but it was a little bit smaller so, by default, the shower in the trampoline room had become the sex shower. Wade knew that if he took a shower in the master bath, Pete would give him a minute to clean up and then join him, which always sounded like a good plan. On the other hand, Pete had looked so soft and cozy, and he was probably mid chapter or something. Wade didn’t want to interrupt that, so he’d picked the regular shower.

_ [Why the fuck are you telling them all this. They do not care.] _

_ Just chill. I’m setting up a joke for like three chapters from now. _

_ [Three chapters??? They’re never going to remember that far.] _

_ They will now that you helped reinforce it! _

_ [Damn it!] _

Wade washed quickly, then dried off and put on a pair of sweatpants and a hooded sweatshirt. He zipped the sweatshirt up, and pulled the hood up over his head. Sure Pete had seen it all before, and he didn’t even seem to mind, but that didn’t mean Wade should force him to look at it all the time. He practically ran back to the living room, snagging an apple off the counter as he passed, before dashing around to the front of the couch where Pete was - 

Oh.

_ Oh. _

_ [Oh fuck.] _

Wade froze, apple dropping from his hand, mouth going instantly dry at the sight laid out before him. Pete was stretched out on the couch, book in hand, in a pair of pink, flannel, Hello Kitty pajama pants, and nothing else. They were slung low, and Wade could see the deep groove of his oblique muscle dipping below his waistline. 

Pete glanced up at him over the top of his book, frowning at Wade’s sudden inaction. “What? Do I have something on my face?”

“Baby boy.” The words fell out of Wade’s mouth breathlessly, as he dropped to his knees alongside the couch, his hands immediately going to Pete’s chest, running across the smooth, golden skin and strong muscles on display. “You look so good right now. Holy hell, these pants…”

“Yeah?” Pete wiggled his toes, and Wade had a sudden urge to suck each individual digit into his mouth one at a time. It wasn’t that he had a foot fetish, exactly, so much as he had an absolutely-everything-to-do-with-Peter-Benjamin-Parker fetish. 

“I saw them at one of those tourist-trap shops in midtown and I needed them. You like?”

“Fuck yes. Bet they make your ass look amazing.”

Pete laughed, then slipped out from under Wade’s hands to stand up. Wade groaned at the loss and leaned his head on the couch, the residual warmth of Pete’s body hot against his cheek while his eyes tracked the younger man’s movements. 

“Whatta you think?” Pete asked, wiggling his hips. He looked back over his shoulder at Wade invitingly. “They’re soft, too. You should feel how soft they are.”

_ [Fuck!] _

Wade was aware that he wasn’t known for his gracefulness. It just wasn’t a thing people associated with him. He didn’t look like the kind of guy who could be quick and stealthy. People saw him and they thought guns and explosions and maybe an occasional knee to the groin here and there. A blunt instrument. 

_ [Heh. Blunt.] _

_ Shut up. _

And that was fine. It really was. But it ignored the fact that he was, without a shadow of a doubt, one of the finest martial artists on the planet. Maybe off the planet, too. He was fucking good, was his point. 

_ [And so modest, too.] _

Regardless, Wade Wilson knew how to move like a fucking ninja, and it was that skill he called on now. In one fluid motion he rose up from the ground, scooped Pete off his feet, and slung him bodily over his shoulder. 

Pete squeaked. It was adorable. 

“They’re good pants,” Wade growled, already halfway to the bedroom. “Now let's get them the fuck off of you.”

  
  


***

Wade trailed his fingers through Pete’s hair as the younger man let out a small, content sigh and snuggled deeper into --

_ [MOTHERFUCKER!] _

Excuse me?

_ [You just cockblocked me two chapters in a row.] _

I did no such thing. I faded to black so we can get on with the plot, as you suggested. People want to know…

_ [People want to know about how I just gave it to Webs here. That’s what people want to know.] _

Next time. Anyway…

_ [I gave it to him good, that’s how I gave it to him. I’m gonna tell everyone. You can’t stop the signal, lady.] _

Wade trailed his fingers through Pete’s hair as the younger man let out a small, content sigh and snuggled deeper into his arms, the side of his face pressed up against Wade’s chest. 

_ [I yanked those adorable pants right off and I wore them like a goddamned scarf.] _

“I needed that,” Pete said breathlessly, turning his head to lay a soft kiss on Wade’s chin. “Didn’t realize how much I needed that.”

_ [Then I ate him out for all I’m worth. Had him screaming and blubbering. Tears just pourin’ down his adorable little face. Squirmin’ around like his life was ending. It was a sight to behold. But I’m sure your readers don’t mind missing out on all that. They certainly shouldn’t be encouraged to head over and read your pal HaniTrash’s fics, even though she’s totally writing the good stuff.] _

“I don’t know what it is,” Pete continued, rolling onto his back and pulling Wade’s arms tight around him. “I just haven’t been able to feel settled for a while now. It’s like, for the past three days, my Spidey-Senses haven't stopped buzzing at me.”

_ [Once he was all soaking wet and begging for mercy, I flipped him over onto his stomach and just railed him. It was obscene. Thighs slapping against asses. Moaning and keening. All that shit you filthy horndogs eat right up. But no, I’m sure nobody was interested!] _

“It’s not terrible, you know? Not like a full blown emergency; just this low level tingling under my skin that I can’t seem to shake. There’s something… I don’t know what it is, but something is different. Something is wrong and I can’t put my finger on it. But whatever it is, it’s close. I can feel it.”

_ [At one point his arms just gave out from underneath him. HIS arms. Spider-Man’s arms. You know how much Spider-Man can lift? Ten fucking tons. Yeah, yeah, you say you already knew that, but I saw you google it just now so you could write it in here. You don’t know shit, lady.] _

“Whatever it is, I wish it would just happen and be done, you know? It’s exhausting. I can’t get away from it.”

_ [And it was absolutely filthy. I made him come untouched, and then I made him come again. But of course your readers would never want to hear about that. They’re here for the plot! And I’m sure they read Playboy for the articles, too. What a joke.] _

“Anyway, thank you. You always know just how to calm me down. I love you so much, Wade. Wade? Hey Wade, you with me?”

“Hmm? What, baby boy? Sorry. Yellow took over for a second there. You know how it goes.”

Pete smiled up at him gently. “You ok? I didn’t even ask you how your job went. Any troubles?”

“Nope. Everything went great. You would have been real proud of me. Actually…” Wade rolled over and checked the clock on the bedside table. It was just after 8:30. “...I left a lot for the cops to find, and the media was getting there just as I was wrapping up. I bet I’ll be on the ten o’clock news. Wanna order something to eat and watch your boyfriend on TV?”

“I can’t think of any way I’d rather spend my evening.” 

Wade pulled him close, holding Pete tightly against his chest. His body was warm and smooth and small, and Wade could feel the unbelievable strength of his muscles shifting just below his skin. He squeezed tighter. 

“You’re squishing me.” Pete grunted out.

“That’s what people do to spiders.” Wade squeezed harder. 

“Hey.” Pete stretched his arms and legs, easily breaking free of Wade’s hold, and Jesus if that wasn’t just the hottest fucking thing ever. His baby boy was so smol and so strong. Pete rolled over and pressed his lips gently against Wade’s. “I love you, Pool.”

“I love you too, Spidey.” 

“I’m going to take a shower. Do you need another one?”

Wade shook his head. “Nah. I think a quick wipe-down will be enough for me.”

“You order the food then.” Pete disappeared into the bathroom, only to stick his head back out the open door. “And don’t forget, you owe me pizza.”

“Yeah, yeah. Or we could have tacos?”

“Pizza,” Pete repeated with a grin. “You promised.”

Wade blew him a kiss. “Whatever my baby wants, my baby gets.”

Less than 30 minutes later, the two were snuggled up on the couch, backs against the armrests, feet tucked against each other. Wade flipped through the tv channels as he took a bite of his pizza. (Ham and pineapple, by the way, because he had class; not like Petey Pop and his boring-ass pepperoni). He paused on a Golden Girls marathon, set down the remote, and sighed contentedly. “This is the life, itsy.”

Pete bumped his heels against the inside of Wade’s thighs in agreement. 

They sat together in comfortable quiet, watching the show and eating their pizza. When the food was gone, Pete adjusted so that he was lying in Wade’s lap, his cheek pressed against Wade’s thigh. Wade absentmindedly ran his fingers through Pete’s hair. “You miss going out, baby boy?”

Without lifting his head, Pete shrugged. “Yes and no.” He yawned. “I mean, I do. I get twitchy sometimes, and I miss just being outside at night, but I’ve liked being here with you too, and not having to worry about anything. Just a little mini stay-cation.”

“I miss your ass in the suit,” Wade admitted, grabbing a handful and giving it a squeeze. “Seems weird to ask you to put it on just so I can take it off of you with my teeth, though.”

“When has being weird ever stopped you, hmm?” Pete rolled over so that he was facing Wade, knees on either side of his thighs, his hands coming up to bracket Wade’s broad chest. “Would you like that, Pool? You want me to put on the suit? I could rescue you from some big bad that goes bump in the night, and then you would have to repay me by…”

_ “We interrupt your regularly scheduled programming for this important announcement. Reports are coming in now that the New York vigilante known as Daredevil has been shot. We are live with WHiH reporter Eddie Brock, who was first on the scene. Eddie, what’s going on?” _

Pete was already moving as Wade sat, eyes transfixed to the screen. 

_ “Thank you, Tyler. We’re still not sure exactly what happened. One witness claims he saw the Punisher on a nearby rooftop, but that has yet to be confirmed. Paramedics are on the scene.” _

“WADE!” Pete shouted from the bedroom. “Fucking move!”

“Right.” Wade jumped to his feet and ran to the bedroom, grabbing his suit from where it still lay crumpled on the floor from earlier that evening and struggling into it. He kept an ear on the tv as he dressed. 

_ “It’s hard to see much of anything at the moment. Detective Misty Knight has ordered officers to make a wall around the body, we can assume to protect the masked man’s identity. I’m going to see if I can find some higher ground to get a better view…” _

“Come on!” Pete shouted, already dressed and standing by the open window. Wade quickly strapped a gun to each thigh and slid his katanas into their scabbards. Pete gestured to his back, and Wade barely had time to wrap his arms and legs around the smaller man’s frame before they were flying out into the night. 

Wade jumped off Pete’s back before his feet touched the ground and, ignoring the crack in his leg, was running towards the scene. “Get the fuck out of my way,” he growled, pushing a police officer with a metal arm to the side. Next to him, he could see Pete taking out cameras left and right, webbing over the lenses to prevent any shots of Matt's face.

“Hey, you can’t just…” Wade heard the detective call out after him, before she cut off sharply. Wade didn’t bother to wonder why when he felt Pete drop into place next to him. Nobody questioned Spidey, and as long as they were together Wade seemed to get a pass, too. Normally it would have bothered him, but now…

Both men froze at the sight that appeared before them as they pushed through the police barricade. 

Matt was lying on the sidewalk on his back. And it was Matt. There wasn’t any question about it. His mask and a portion of his suit had been cut away and were resting on the ground next to him. His arms and one of his legs were positioned at ungodly angles, and a pool of red was spread out beneath him. His skin looked pale, and his open eyes were even glassier and unfocused than usual. He wasn’t moving. Not even a little. 

Next to him, he heard Pete start to cry.

Wade dropped down, kneeling next to the body. He pulled off one of his gloves, then traced his thumb across Matt’s collarbone. 

“Sir, you can’t just -”

“Shut the fuck up!” Wade didn’t take his eyes off of Matt’s chest as he pulled a gun out of its holster and pointed it directly at the offending police officer’s face.

“Wade,” Pete said quietly, kneeling down next to him. “You can’t threaten a police officer. I can’t… if they take you away, too…”

“Shut up!” Wade snapped, and he heard Pete gasp next to him.

_ [What the fuck, dude?] _

“You shut up too! Everybody shut the fuck up right now!”

Wade stared down at the body. Something was wrong. He gritted his teeth, trying to focus, fighting with his muddled brain to pull up the image that he wanted. Matt, stretched out underneath him, his hands clawing at Wade’s back as Wade thrust into him viciously, teeth digging into his shoulder, his neck, his chest, tongue lavishing across the scars on his chest, fingers twisting a nipple harshly, then moving up, brushing aside the black cord that held his cross to wrap around his neck…

“Where is it?” Wade whispered, before turning to Pete frantically. “Where the fuck is it?”

“Where’s what?” Pete asked, voice choked.

“Where’s his cross? Who took it?” Wade stood up, grabbing the metal armed lady and shaking her once? “Who took his goddamned cross?!?”

The officer looked at him and shook her head. “Nobody took anything.”

“You sure about that? What about whoever did this?”

“Sniper-rifle,” she answered. “From a distance. Best guess is it came from that building over there,” she nodded in the direction of an apartment building down the block. “Police were on the scene immediately. Nobody took anything off of the body.”

Wade knelt back down next to Pete. His fingers rolled over the scar above Matt’s right pectoral. It was smooth under his fingertips.    
  
Wade had a lot of scars. He knew what scars felt like. He knew what Matt’s scars felt like. 

They didn’t feel like this.

“Spidey,” Wade said quietly, grabbing Pete’s hand and pulling him up to stand. “Don't say anything. I don’t think this is our Devil.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Classes are over yay!!!!
> 
> I no longer have worries about the next chapter being up on next Friday. Maybe there might even be something before that, if I can keep my kids occupied long enough to focus? Leave me a note to encourage me in my poor time management!! 
> 
> Also, if you - like Wade - are fed up by the lack of sex in this chapter, please check out HaniTrash's work  HERE . I personally would recommend Crash and Burn, which is currently 47,000 words of unadulterated Stucky A/B/O filth. 
> 
> Also, Also: I totally stole the Jarvis moment and I have no shame whatsoever about that fact:


	24. Twenty-Four

Matt groaned and sank deeper into the couch, banging his head against the arm rest for good measure, and debated asking Jarvis to shut the window for what was probably the twentieth time. Of all the places to get detained, he really couldn’t have asked for something better than Avengers Tower. It smelled clean, the bed was soft, and the food was good. Perhaps most importantly, it was quiet. The entire building featured some sort of electronic sound dampening system, blocking out the noises of each section of the building from the others, floor by floor, apartment by apartment, even room by room if you asked Jarvis to. He’d asked Steve and Bucky about it after one of their first… sessions. It was, at its core, a security thing, designed to make bugging the tower more challenging. For Matt’s circumstances, it also meant that he wasn’t accidentally privy to conversations and other activities not intended for his overly sensitive ears.

That was, of course, unless both his window and the other party’s windows were open. In that case, all bets were off.

He thought that the sex was as bad as it could get. The noises that Pete was making, high and desperate, as Wade forced a second orgasm out of him, had Matt gripping onto the edges of the couch for dear life, unwilling to touch himself, unable to give Jarvis the simple command - shut the window - that would make it stop. 

But now… now was worse. Now the sounds were happy and domestic, and Matt could just imagine the two men curled up together on the couch, gentle touches and soft smiles as they ate dinner and watched tv. He pictured himself with them, tucked in between, his head resting on Wade’s hip and Pete’s leg hitched around his thigh. He could practically smell them - he wasn’t sure if it was his imagination or the swirling wind that had hints of pepperoni and cheese, tomatoes, ham, and pineapple, along with gunpowder and silk wafting in through the cracked opening of his window, enveloping him.

He needed to focus. Knew he needed to focus. Jarvis had said he’d give Matt a sign, and the unrequested boxing bag had to be it. Things were happening tonight; he was sure of it…

But what did it matter to him? What could he do? All the pieces were in play. Either this wouldn’t work, and Matt would be exposed as Daredevil, get disbarred, and everyone he’d ever worked to put away - including Wilson Fisk - would demand a retrial, or it would work and… and then what? He wasn’t even sure what would happen then. Vanessa Fisk would go to jail and both Matt Murdock and Daredevil would be exonerated in the public eye, but did any of that matter? Because Pete and Wade would still know what he’d done. Steve and Bucky and the Avengers, Coulson and SHIELD, Foggy and Karen, Danny and Luke and Jessica… they’d all know. Matt would be done.  _ Daredevil  _ would be done. 

Was it worth it?

Matt sat up, blinked back tears, gritted his teeth, and focused, pushing his senses past the tower and deeper into the city.  _ Of course it was. Of course it FUCKING was.  _ He was about to finish something he’d been trying to do for the past three years. He was about to do something that nobody else could have done. He was about to stop Wilson Fisk, the Kingpin, and get him sent away for good.  _ No path to the outside. No chance for appeal. Game over.  _

He was on the edge of the couch now, hands gripping his knees as he focused harder, pinpointing his senses, searching for that familiar hum. Nothing sounded quite like it. Polyethylene fiber and carbonadium thread had been woven together, reinforcing the leather of the suit, and Matt knew he could hear it from miles away. When he finally found it, he couldn’t help but smile. It was like it was singing to him.

The body inside was warm and strong and so undeniably his own that it was terrifying.  _ Jarvis does good work,  _ he thought to himself wryly, before rolling out his shoulders and beginning the process again. Senses stretched to their limits, he anchored himself on the suit before expanding outwards, searching for kevlar and bullets and cigarette smoke.

_ Frank. _

There, standing on a building across the street. He was already set, and Matt could hear the bullets clicking in the chamber of his rifle. He felt Frank take a deep breath.

Hyper focused as he was, the force of the bullet exiting the barrel was a shock, knocking him backwards and breaking his concentration. Matt shook his head, clearing the echoes of shockwaves from his brain and reached back out, finding the suit once again. It was lying on the ground now, and the body inside - his body - was no longer moving. 

Fuck, that was unnerving. 

Once again Matt sought out Frank, his space on the rooftop and - finding it already vacant - he nodded to himself in satisfaction. Phase one was done. Now there was nothing left for him to do but sit back and wait. He relaxed slightly, bringing his hands to his face, trying to massage some of the tension out of his forehead, thumbs digging into his temples.

The window slammed shut.

“Jarvis?” Matt asked hesitantly. 

“I’m sorry, sir,” the AI replied. “My primary command is to prevent all communication with Mr. Parker and Mr. Wilson.”

“And?”

“And they just left the tower via the windows, sir.”

“Do you know where they were going?”

If Matt didn’t know better, he’d swear the AI hesitated before answering. “That cannot be confirmed, sir.”

“Can you guess?”

“Well, sir…” And did Jarvis hesitate again? “Immediately before exiting the building, the two viewed a breaking news story. It has been reported that Daredevil was shot and killed tonight, and I suspect that they are going to the crime scene.”

And that was that. Matt had wanted to tell them, to spare them this, to warn them like he’d warned Foggy and Karen, but he hadn’t and now they were going to what? To see him lying, dead, on the ground. He almost wished it was true. At this point, that would probably be better. If either of them had held onto any positive feelings towards him, this would certainly be enough to wipe those away.

Matt set his jaw and reminded himself, again, that it was the right choice. That the consequences for him didn’t matter. That he had done what needed to be done to protect his city. “Is it still on?”

“Is what still on, sir?”

“The news story, Jarvis. The breaking news. Is it still on.”

“Yes, sir.” 

“I want to hear it.”

“Sir, I don’t think that’s wise. It…”

“Turn it on, Jarvis.”

“Yes, sir,”

Matt shuddered as an electromagnetic current tore through his body. He was sure Stark's holographic displays were visually stunning, but they put out so much static he could barely stand it. “Just the audio please, Jarvis.”

He relaxed slightly as the offending sensation faded, then immediately tensed again as his mind made sense of the words being spoken. 

_ “I’m trying to get closer to see what’s happening and… Hey! No, you back off lady. I’m a member of the press. I have a constitutional right to… You know what, same to you!” _

There was a brief scuffle and then the man was talking again, slightly more out of breath than he’d been previously. There was something off with his voice - just a hint of something in the back of his throat - but it was too hard to place through the television. 

_ “The police are not letting anyone through. I’m going to see if I can… Ok. Hold on.” _

There was another scuffle and some grunts. Matt cocked his head to the side, trying to make sense of it. “Jarvis?” he finally asked.

“The reporter appears to be climbing a tree, sir.”

Matt snorted. 

_ “Ok, so from up here I can see that Daredevil is, in fact, lying on the ground. He does not appear to be moving. Paramedics are nearby, but they don’t seem to be working. The man under the mask is caucasian, dark hair, appears to be in his late 20’s. His face looks familiar but I can’t… you know what. Get up here. Yes, you! Yes! What? Fine, then give me that!”  _

There was a thunk, a shout of complaint, and then more scratching and grunts.

“The reporter has taken the camera and is re-climbing the tree,” Jarvis informed Matt. 

_ “Ok. I’m going to zoom in, because this is somebody I’m just not placing it. Did you get that? Are you…”  _ There was a wet splat. _ “Hey! What the fuck?” _

“The screen has gone white, sir.”

_ “That menace Spider-Man and his accomplice Deadpool have arrived on the scene. HEY! YEAH, YOU! YOU CAN EXPECT A BILL FOR THAT CAMERA, BUDDY! Anyway, they’re pushing up through the crowd and, of course, they’re ignoring the police line because laws don’t apply to vigilantes like them.” _

Matt wondered briefly if the man realized that he had also tried to push through the police line just moments earlier.

_ “Oh man. It looks like… Yeah. Spider-Man is not ok. There have been multiple reports over the past few years about Daredevil working with both Spider-Man and Deadpool, although not for the past few months. Ok. Deadpool is… shit. He’s basically feeling up the body. I’m sorry but I don’t know how else to describe it. Man that’s disturbing. And now he’s yelling something. Something about… a cross? He’s missing a cross?” _

Matt’s hands flew to the cross - his mother's cross - which hung on a cord around his neck.

“My apologies, sir. I didn’t realize…”

“It’s fine, Jarvis.” 

_ “Alright, now Deadpool is standing up and he and Spider-Man are holding hands? Listen, I’m just reporting what I’m seeing, but they’re walking out of the crowd, away from the body. Deadpool seems to be pulling Spider-Man, and has not let go of his hand this entire time. Hold on. Shit! Is that…?  _

Matt could hear a faint roar in the distance. He focused on it, trying to determine the source. He was so focused on that, he didn’t notice the heavy footsteps coming down the hallway towards his own door until said door was being opened violently. 

Matt turned towards the sound, just as the door opened and two super-soldiers came running in. They both stopped on the spot, hearts pounding, and stared at him. 

“What the actual fuck, Matt?” Bucky spat out after a moment of stunned silence. “What the hell kind of stunt are you trying to pull here?”

“It was the only way…”

“I’m willing to bet it wasn’t.” Steve interrupted him, ‘Captain America is Disappointed In You’ voice in full effect. “And you could have warned us.” He pressed a finger to his ear, and Matt heard the faint whine of a transmitter. “Yeah, we’ve got him, Tony. Go pick up whatever the hell that is.” Steve turned his attention back to Matt. “What’s next, then? What’s your next play?”

Matt took a breath and opened his mouth to explain, but the words coming through the audio feed grabbed all three of their attention.

_ “Iron Man is currently touching down on the scene. He’s walking up to the cops. Looks like he and Detective Knight are sharing some heated words and, ok. Ok, wow. He is taking Daredevil’s body with him. Unheard of! I didn’t know the Avengers had the right to just walk into an active crime scene and take bodies, but I guess that’s the world we live in now.” _

_ “Just a moment, Eddie,”  _ another voice interrupted him. _ “We have more breaking news, this time provided by former child star and current radio personality, Trish “Patsy” Walker, who claims to have evidence that Lawyer Matthew Murdock, who she claims she recognizes as the victim in tonight’s Daredevil shooting, has been working directly with Vanessa Fisk to help free her husband Wilson Fisk from prison. Trish, tell us what you have.” _

_ “Thank you, Tyler” _

“Jarvis, can we get a visual on this?” Steve talked over Trish, and Matt winced as the screen came back on.

_ “...an anonymous source. I’ve been spending the past few days trying to verify everything and, while I haven’t made it through the entire package, this much appears to be clear. Matthew Murdock has been working with the Fisks not only to push up Mr. Fisk’s appeal date, but also to purchase Seagate, the prison that Fisk is currently being held in, and to take out several businesses that could be seen as competitors of the Fisks.” _

_ “But Mr. Murdock was a part of the team who got Fisk put in prison in the first place. Why would he want to help him appeal that?” _

_ “People do a lot of things for money, Tyler.”  _ Matt could hear the slight shake in her voice. She was an actress, yes, and a damn good one, but she was unsure. He hoped that she could hold it together long enough.

_ “Even if that’s the case,”  _ Tyler pushed,  _ “how could Matt Murdock, who I will remind our viewers is blind, be Daredevil?” _

_ “Well, people are capable of a lot of crazy things these days.” _

_ “Hold on.”  _ There was a brief pause.  _ “It appears we have Karen Page, a contributor to the New York Bulletin on the line. Karen, you say that there is no chance that Matt Murdock can be Daredevil. Can you explain?” _

_ “Of course, Tyler. The truth is this: Daredevil is a contact of mine, and Matt Murdock is… or was…”  _ her voice broke a little _ “...my employer and my friend. There is no way they’re the same person.” _

_ “So you’re saying you’ve seen them at the same place at the same time?” _

_ “I have.” _

_ Huh, _ Matt thought.  _ Karen lies better than Patsy Walker.  _ But that was something he could process later.

_ “Tyler. Tyler!”  _ Trish interrupted.  _ “Of course she’d say that. He’s probably paying her to say that. It’s a conflict of interest.” _

_ “It’s not a conflict of interest.”  _ And Matt could practically hear Karen’s eyes roll.  _ “It’s just a thing that I know.” _

_ “Mr. Murdock was working for the Fisks. Did you know that?” _

_ “You claim he was,”  _ Karen shot back at Trish.  _ “But Matt would never…” _

_ “I have documented evidence!” _

“Jarvis, turn this off,” Steve commanded, and the room went silent. “What was that, Matt. What’s going on?”

“I need you to hold a press conference.”

“You need us to…” Steve laughed sharply. “And say what, exactly.”

“That it’s not him,” Tony said, stepping into the room from the hallway. “That the body in the suit was a LMD.”

Matt nodded at him.

“How the fuck did you get one of my Life Model Decoys, Matt?” Tony demanded, walking towards them. “Do you realize how bad this is going to make me look?!?” 

Matt shook his head. “I don’t think it was one of yours.”

“What do you mean?” Tony asked, stopping in his tracks. “LMDs are restricted technology. Only Stark Enterprises is authorized to make them, and only under very specific… Shit. You’re saying Fisk was making LMD’s?”

“You tell me.” 

“Jarvis?” 

“The Life Model Decoy of Matthew Murdock currently lying in Lab 3 has energy and production signatures that suggest it was constructed at Octavious Industries, recently acquired by Vanessa Fisk.”

“Shit,” Tony muttered under his breath.”Ok. So what do we do?”

“You hold a press conference,” Matt repeated. “Tell them the truth - That I was working for Fisk, but only because they were blackmailing me, and that I turned myself into your custody three days ago because I didn’t want to help them anymore and I was afraid of what they would do. Tell them the Matt Murdock in the suit was an LMD, and that you suspect that it was illegally created by Fisk Industries.”

“To what end?” Bucky asked.

“When Trish fully investigates the documents provided to her by her anonymous source, she will discover that they were actually written on Vanessa Fisk’s personal computer the same day I turned myself in to the Avengers for protection.”

“So it will look like they were trying to destroy your credibility…” Steve said softly. 

“They _were_ trying to destroy my credibility,” Matt clarified. “I may have sped up the process, but I didn’t do anything that wasn’t already in progress.”

“And Daredevil?” Tony asked. “Where does he fall in all this? He’s been leading the Hand for the past several months.”

“Or was that an LMD?” Matt asked in return.

“Was it?” Bucky asked.

Matt didn’t answer for a moment, then said simply “No one can prove it wasn’t.”

“Anything else we should know?” Matt could feel Steve staring at him.

“As we speak,” Matt suddenly felt very tired, “Jennifer Walters is filing a motion with the District Attorney against Wilson and Vanessa Fisk, and the Fisk Industry board, which contains all the information I provided to Coulson. That, along with the LMD component, should be enough to get both of them put away for life with no hope of appeal, even if it ever is discovered that I'm Daredevil.”  
  
"Because you couldn't have had anything to do with it," Bucky said nodding. "Because you were here."   
  
"Exactly."  
  
"Are you going to stay in confinement until after the trial?" Bucky asked.  
  
"I would prefer that, yes."

The three men stared at him in silence for several minutes. “Alright,” Steve finally spoke. “We’ll hold a press conference. Tony?” 

“I’ll get Pep to schedule it for first thing in the morning.”

“Fine. Good.” Steve gave Matt one last searing look. “Look, I'm glad you realize you need to stay here, Matt. This may clear your name publicly, but…”

“I understand.” Matt cut him off. 

Steve nodded, and stalked out of the room with Bucky on his heels and Tony not far behind. Tony, however, paused momentarily when he reached the door.

“Jarvis,” he said thoughtfully. “How old would you guess the LMD of Matt that’s lying in Lab 3 is?”

Jarvis paused before answering. “It is challenging to say with any level of certainty, sir, but I would guess it is approximately 12 hours old.”

“Uh huh. And Jarvis?”

“Yes sir?” 

“Hypothetically speaking, if the Fisks hadn’t wanted to release that LMD tonight, how might it have gotten out of the good Doctor Octavious’s lab?”

Another pause. Longer this time. “Hypothetically speaking, sir… If Octavious Industries had obtained one of your Life Model Decoys and were using that as a base for their own process, it is possible they might not have noticed the back door software that you built into the design and - in theory - someone knowing where to look could have exploited that knowledge to take control of the system, both to create and deploy a LMD.”

“Got it. Thanks J.”

“You are welcome, sir.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plan is revealed!!
> 
> It doesn't matter, but in my head, this Eddie Brock LOOKS like Tom Hardy but ACTS like Topher Grace's version. Sexy and manic!!
> 
> I don't want to make any promises... but the next chapter is almost done. And summer classes don't start until next week! So... I'm just saying... maybe an extra chapter next week? I always write more than I think I will, but I'd guess there are only a few chapters of this left. 
> 
> Feel free to yell at me in the comics or on Tumblr!!


	25. Twenty-Five

Pete stared up at the ceiling. His eyes ached, his chest burned, and he was pretty sure he was going to throw up. Next to him, Wade shifted slightly and he turned and snuggled closer, tucking his nose into Wade’s side and hitching a leg up over his thigh. Wade ran a hand gently through his hair. 

“Did you sleep at all, baby boy?”

“Yes,” Pete lied.

“Oh, Webs…” Wade rolled onto his side and wrapped his arms tightly around Pete, who just buried himself deeper into Wade’s embrace. “It’s going to be ok. I promise.”

“You can’t promise that.” Pete hated how his voice shook as he forced the words out. “You don’t know. We should have heard something by now… Tony should have… if that wasn’t him, why hasn’t anyone told us? Why hasn’t anyone said anything?”

“I don’t know, Petey.” Wade squeezed him even tighter. “I wish they would too.”

The two lay in silence for a long time, Wade’s rough hand running soothingly over Pete’s smooth back as Pete tried not to let him hear the tears that were streaming down his face.

It was Wade who finally broke the silence, and Pete knew well enough to know the words weren’t meant for him. “No. I… Fuck, no. Fuck you! You’re wrong!” And  _ shit _ … Pete wasn’t sure if he could do this right now. He wasn’t sure he could be strong for Wade, not when it was taking everything he had not to fall apart. “You’re wrong and that’s final! Now shut the fuck up and leave us alone!”

Pete pulled back to look at him, eyes still wet. 

“Sorry, baby. I just… He’s not being helpful.”

Pete nodded. “It’s ok.”

“No, it’s not,” Wade admitted, wincing. “I think we should go somewhere, though.” He started to move and Pete grabbed onto his arm, holding onto him with his full spider-strength.

“Please don’t leave me.”

“Hey… hey… shhh… Baby boy, no. I’m not. I wouldn’t.” Wade rolled so that he was over Pete, biceps bracketing Pete’s head, chests pressed together tightly. “You couldn’t get rid of me if you wanted to.”

Another tear leaked out of Pete’s eye, and Wade kissed it off his cheek.

“I just think we deserve to know, right? And neither of us is sleeping, so let's go harass some Supes until they tell us what’s the what.”

Pete stared up at him.

“Unless that’s a bad plan,” he quickly added, and Pete could see him shrinking back into himself, large frame becoming smaller as he tried to move away again. “Yellow told me it was a bad plan and the last time I tried to talk to them I made a fool of you and I don’t want to be bad because…”

Pete shut him up with a firm kiss. “I think that’s a great plan.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Pete nodded once emphatically, trying to make himself believe it. It was weird that nobody had come to talk to them. That nobody had said  _ anything.  _ “Let’s go get some answers.” Pete forced himself to separate from Wade, sliding out from between his arms even though there was nowhere else he wanted to be, sitting up in bed and then standing. He splashed some water on his face and dressed mindlessly - a pair of black sweats and one of Wade’s shirts. It was too loose around the neck and it hung down to mid-thigh but he didn’t care. It was comfortable and it was clean and that was good enough. Wade emerged from the bathroom and smiled at him gently. 

Pete grabbed Wade’s hand and, holding on tight, they walked onto the elevator together.

The first thing Pete noticed when they stepped off the elevator was Natasha arching a single eyebrow in his direction, and Bucky giving him a surprised once over, both of which were odd. The second thing he noticed was how many people were there; way more people than would normally be in the common room at 7:50 on a Tuesday morning. And, ok, maybe he didn’t know that for a fact because he’s not sure he’s ever been in the common room at 7:50 on a Tuesday morning, but it just didn’t make sense. Generally speaking, the Avengers sleep in because, generally speaking, crime happens at night. 

But no. Natasha and Bucky were there, obviously, and Sam and Rhodey and Wanda and Bruce. Scott was there, and Pete wondered momentarily if he was still in town or if he never left. Dr. Strange was there, and Thor, and Clint along with his protege Kate… And that made the least sense of all, because Pete knew for sure that Clint didn’t wake up before 10 am unless it was an absolute emergency, and even that was questionable. 

The third thing Pete noticed… well…

“Man, you sure have some nerve!” Sam got up off the couch and stalked towards them, his eyes locked on Wade’s face. 

“Excuse you?” Pete said, stepping between the two of them. It would be humorous, Pete using his small frame to protect Wade’s much larger one, except everyone in the room knew that Pete single-handedly brought down the Hulk the last time Bruce lost his cool. 

“Don’t you start with me, kid.” Pete flinched at the tone in Sam’s voice.

“Sam…” Natasha said cautiously from where she was leaning against the bar.

“No,” Sam cut her off. “No, I get that we usually coddle him because he’s so young, but he needs to understand how hurtful this was. How upset we all are. This doesn’t just affect the three of them.”

Behind him, Pete could feel Wade go unbelievably tense and he hoped that, just maybe, they left the apartment quickly enough that Wade didn’t grab a weapon. Because, as much as he couldn’t believe that these words were coming out of Sam Wilson’s mouth, it would still be really bad if Wade shot him. 

“Peter, I know you care for these guys but they’re making bad choices. And going along with it is…”

“Sam,” Bucky interrupted. “Look at the kid. He doesn’t have a clue what you’re talking about.” 

Sam turned back from Bucky to stare at Pete. “Oh, shit. You don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?!” The words practically exploded out of Pete as he balled up his fists and tried not to cry. “What am I supposed to know? Nobody is telling us anything! Matt’s been shot, you all are gathering up here - what? - talking about it? Talking about me? And somehow that’s all Wade’s fault?!?”

Sam looked at him sadly. “Pete, I’m sorry, but you need to understand that we…”

“No, you need to understand…” Pete was on the verge of shouting when Jarvis interrupted. “Sirs? It’s starting.”

The holoscreen turned on, and the room went quiet. Pete froze, unable to speak. Unable to look away. There, on screen, he could see Tony, Steve, Pepper, Agent Coulson, Foggy, and a woman with green skin in a smart business suit that Pete didn’t recognize, all standing on a platform in the large room lower in the tower that was generally reserved for Avengers related press conferences. 

“Alright,” Tony said, stepping up to the platform. “Let’s get things started, shall we? First off, how is everyone doing this morning? I know, it is early, isn’t it? But there are bagels. Did you get a bagel?” He pointed out at someone in the crowd. “Can somebody… Gary, can you get Christine a bagel? She really looks like she could use the carbs.”

Behind him, Pepper cleared her throat.

“Right.” Tony settled behind the podium, his face snapping into one of focused determination. “Ms. Potts is right, as always. We’re here today for a very serious reason, and I need to try to maintain that tone.” He turned and gave Pepper a wide smile. She shook her head back at him fondly. “But I’m in a good mood!” He grinned as he turned back to the reporters. “Because, while it seems like a bad thing happened last night, the truth is, it was kind of great!” 

A shocked murmur spread across the crowd of reporters.

“No, not like that.” Tony shook his head. “You’re a bunch of barbarians. Let's start out by dropping the suspense. Daredevil, the real Daredevil was not shot last night. Neither, let’s be clear, was Matt Murdock.”

The volume of the reporters grew above a murmur, with a few calling out to him.

“We’ll get to questions later. Just, let me explain what happened, ok? First off, the body found shot in the Daredevil suit last night was not a body at all, but was a Life Model Decoy, or LMD.”

The noise in the hall grew to a roar, with several reporters shouting out questions. 

Tony held out a hand, palm towards them. “Just hold on, ok? Christine, don’t get your panties all in a bunch. We’ve been running tests on the LMD all night, and those results will be obviously released to all of you, but it’s become very clear that the LMD itself was built by Octavius Industries. Now… Now, just hold on, ok?” Tony shouted over the outraged reporters. “Yes, I know I told you that nobody else would be able to duplicate my LMD technology and you know what? I was right. Because this LMD contained programming that I installed into my original designs - which dear sweet Otto tried to duplicate, and poorly I might add - that alerted my systems the moment the LMD was deployed and allowed us to take control. The information about to be sent to you will show, without a shadow of a doubt, that the LMD in question was on its way to Avengers tower when it was shot. Is it unfortunate that it got shot on the way here? Yes, of course it is. Nobody is arguing that. But these things happen, am I right? Anyway, once the LMD arrived here last night - in slightly worse shape than expected of course - we did our analysis and, even earlier this morning if you can believe it, the Feds were able to shut Octavius Industries down. Forensic reports on the lab confirmed what I was already confident of: that this was the first LMD they released. A test subject, if you will.” Tony took a big sip of coffee and smiled out over the reporters. “Now who has questions?”

“Mr. Stark!” Christine Everhart yelled out from the front row. “You guaranteed that nobody would be able to duplicate your LMD technology. And now it’s clear they have. How can you reconcile those facts.”

“My dear, sweet Christine. Thank you for that wonderful question. I never said that somebody wouldn’t  _ try  _ to duplicate the technology. People try to do dumb stuff all the time. Just last week, the good ol’ Man with a Plan here tried to program the coffee machine and ended up setting it on fire. Hawkeye was not pleased.”

“Hey…” Steve objected faintly from the other side of the stage.

“The real concern is whether or not anyone can do it successfully, and I think this proves that they can’t.”

“But why Mr. Murdock?” Another reporter called out from the crowd. “Why choose an LMD of a blind lawyer, and then why put it in Daredevil’s suit?”

“Ahh,” Tony said seriously. “That is a question for our esteemed legal team.” 

Tony stepped aside, and the green skinned woman stepped towards the podium, with Foggy slightly behind. “Good morning,” the woman said with a soft smile. “My name is Jennifer Walters. This is Foggy Nelson, Mr. Murdock’s legal partner. Yesterday, I received documents from an anonymous source showing that Matthew Murdock was working for Ms. Vanessa Mariana-Fisk in her goals of establishing both legal and illegal ties to some of the most powerful industries and crime syndicates in the city. I suspect that these are similar documents provided to Patricia Walker, who you have already heard from, so I won’t go into too much detail. However, what the sender of the documents was not aware of, was that I had already received nearly documents three days earlier from Mr. Murdock, detailing Vanessa Fisk’s plan to threaten and blackmail him into working for her. Mr. Murdock did, for a while, engage in activities that furthered Mrs. Fisk’s illegal activities. It is his assertion and my sincere belief that he did so only to uncover pertinent information regarding said activities, and once that information was obtained he removed himself from the situation and surrendered himself to the custody of the Avengers. Furthermore, there is irrefutable evidence that threats were made by Ms. Vanessa Fisk towards several of Mr. Murdock’s associates. Considering the historical actions of Mr. Wilson Fisk, it seems only appropriate that Mr. Murdock would have taken these threats seriously. Several counts of criminal charges - both at the state and federal level - have been brought against Ms. Fisk by the District Attorney's office, and without Mr. Murdock that would not have been possible. Mrs. Fisk is currently in custody, and I am releasing the details of those charges to you now.”

Across the room, several phones chimed.

“But why Daredevil?” A third reporter asked. “And why now? And what of the reports that Daredevil has been leading a gang of ninjas in the city?”

Jennifer Walters looked like she was about to answer when Steve walked up behind her and placed a large hand on her shoulder. “I’ll handle this one.”

She nodded, and stepped aside. 

“Four days ago, Matt Murdock turned himself in to my custody, admitting that he’d been working with Fisk under duress, and looking for a way out. He was very cooperative during his interview with Agent Coulson…”   


Coulson scoffed.

“...and has been in the custody of the Avengers ever since. As you know, Daredevil has always been an enemy of the Fisks. Although we can’t be sure, my best guess is they wanted to discredit both of them in one swoop.”

Pete stopped listening, eyes widening as realization swept over him. “He’s here?!” he shouted. “He’s in the tower right now and nobody bothered to tell us?!?”

“Peter…” Bucky said, stepping towards him.

“No, don’t you dare!” Pete held out a hand to stop him. “I am not a kid! I deserve to be brought into the loop on something like this!”

“You’re right,” Sam said. “You should have been told. We thought you knew.”

“How would we have known?!?”

“They thought we were in on it,” Wade said quietly, his voice cold, his arm coming to circle Pete’s waist. “Isn’t that right?”

Sam nodded. 

“They trust you, Petey-Pop, but they don’t trust me. It’s alright. I understand.”

“It’s not alright.” Pete stared at Sam. 

“It’s not alright,” Sam agreed.

“Where is he?”

“Pete…” Bucky started.

“82nd floor. Apartment B,” Clint said from across the room.

Bucky glared at him. 

“What?” Clint shrugged and took a gulp of coffee from his oversized mug. “Kid’s right. He should have been told from the beginning.”

"Thanks!" Pete shouted at Clint only, while moving onto the elevator and dragging Wade behind him. “Jarvis, take us to him.” 

“Sir, I’ve been instructed not to…”

“Do I need to force the hatch open and climb up with Wade on my back?”

“No, Sir.” The elevator began to move.

Pete was out the door again the moment the elevator stopped moving, running down the hall towards Apartment B. He paused and considered how mad Tony would be if he broke down the door. At this point he didn’t particularly care, but… “Jarvis, open this door right now before I rewire your hard-drive.”

“Sir,” the AI’s voice sounded nervous. “Certainly you wouldn’t. And even if you wanted to, there is security in place to…”

“You know what I’m capable of, and if I can’t crack it, I’ve got Shuri on speed dial. You really want to test us? She’d think it was fun.”

Pete heard the click of the door unlocking as the light flashed green. He turned the handle and pushed the door open.

And there he was, standing in front of the couch, in black boxer briefs and a zipped up grey hoodie, eyes wide and unfocused, an expression of disbelief on his face. Matt gave an awkward wave and paired with an even more awkward “hello,” and Pete didn’t know whether to cry, to kiss him, or to punch him in the jaw. 

Fortunately, Wade made that decision for him.

“Motherfucker!” He took a step forward, closing the space between them, hand dashing out to slap Matt across the face. 

Matt hardly winced, tongue flicking out to wet his lips. 

“I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

“Shut up.”

Matt’s mouth snapped shut. Pete didn’t even realize he’d said the words until Wade turned to stare at him. “Of all the stupid, self-righteous, self-destructive shit you could have pulled, Matthew,” Pete practically chewed through the name, walking towards Matt until he could feel the heat of his body radiating off of him. “You fucking martyr. You scared the shit out of us. If you ever pull anything like that ever again I swear to god…”

“I won’t,” Matt choked out. “I promise, I won’t.”

“Fucking right you won’t.” Pete grabbed the back of Matt’s head and slammed their mouths together, teeth clashing. His other hand fisted into Matt’s hoodie, pulling their bodies impossibly closer together. “Because.” He pulled his mouth just far enough away to speak. “You.” Each word was sharper than the last, pocketed between fierce kisses. “Are going.” He nipped at Matt’s lower lip. “To get.” Pete reached out and grabbed Wade’s hand, pulling him towards them, guiding him so Matt was sandwiched between them. “So much.” He could feel one of Wade’s hands slide across Matt’s chest, while the other around came to rest on Pete’s hip. “Fucking.” He tangled his hands into Matt’s hair, pulling his head to the side so that Wade could easily lick a stripe down his neck. “Therapy.” 

Matt sighed softly, leaning back to rest his head on Wade’s shoulder. “Yeah. Yeah, ok.”

“You promise?” Pete demanded.

“I promise.”

_ “What about Daredevil? Who’s to say he wasn’t behind the attacks all along? That the LMD wasn’t meant as a decoy to keep him out of trouble.” _

Pete immediately recognized the voice of Christine Everheart. He hadn’t even noticed the press conference was still going, the audio being played through the speakers in Matt’s living room. 

They all heard Steve clear his throat. “Yes,” he said softly. “We’ve definitely considered that. And while I’d personally like to believe that Daredevil has better judgement than that…”

Wade snorted.

“... the truth is we have no way to know. In fact, we have concerns for both parties involved. Even under arrest, the Fisks are very dangerous. So,” Steve took a deep breath. “We’ve discussed the situation with Mr. Murdock, and he will be remaining at Avenger’s tower until such time that we are no longer concerned for his safety. When he needs to leave for work or any other activities, he will be under SHIELD surveillance. We understand this might make meeting confidentiality with clients difficult, and we’re looking into options to resolve that.”

“Hey, we can always move into some swanky digs in Avengers Tower,” Foggy joked. “I bet you guys have the best coffee there.”

“I’m glad to hear you’d consider that, Mr. Nelson,” Steve replied. “It might be our best option.”

“Oh my God,” Matt laughed just a little, despite the tense situation in the room. “I bet Foggy is totally freaking out right now. He hates our building.”

“As for Daredevil,” Steve continued. “I was able to speak to him last night as well, and he agreed to anything necessary to restore the public trust. To that end, Daredevil will be placed into what I’m calling a buddy system. It’s not a punishment. In my opinion, it’s never safe to be out fighting on your own anyway. I have not, unfortunately, had the opportunity to confirm this yet; however, it is my goal to have Spider-Man take on the leadership position in this team. As you may have noticed, Spider-Man has already been working with the one-time-mercenary Deadpool, and we’re very proud of the positive growth he’s shown. It’s my understanding that all three have worked together in the past in some capacity, and it’s my belief that they would make a highly effective team. I’m confident in Spider-Man’s ability to handle any issues that might arise.”

“Shit,” Pete cursed softly.

“You didn’t know?” Matt asked.

“No. Did you?”   
  
Matt shook his head. "I knew they were planning something to keep me under surveillance, but not the specifics.

“Do you…” Pete hesitated. “I mean, is that ok with you?”

Matt dropped his eyes down, fluttering his eyelashes, and something in Pete’s chest told him that he was going to forgive this man a lot faster than he probably should. 

“It’s possible,” Matt said, as he lifted his head back up to smile at Pete, “that I haven’t been making the best choices lately.”

“Oh, it’s possible, is it?” Wade grinned from behind him. “Come on, Matty. You’ve got a better line than that in you.”

Matt’s smile grew. He continued, ignoring Wade, “and I am ready to do  _ anything _ …”

“There it is!”

“...to convince you that I’m still worth your time.”

Pete stepped closer to him, their lips practically touching. “Anything?” He whispered.

“Anything.”

Pete paused for a second, letting Matt wait, knowing the man was listening to his breath, calculating his heart rate, feeling the heat radiate off his body. Finally, Pete spoke. “THER-A-PY!”

Matt laughed out loud at that. “Yeah, ok. What else?”

“No more ninjas,” Pete answered him. “And I expect you to listen to my associate here and do whatever he says, too.”

“Noted and noted.” Matt turned to Wade. “Anything you want to add?”

“Yeah,” Wade said, grabbing the zipper of Matt’s hoodie and pulling it down, exposing Matt’s bare chest. “Sex. Lots and lots of sex. And not the shitty fade-to-black kind I’ve been getting recently, either. The real kind.”

“Got it.” Matt pulled his hoodie the rest of the way off. “Should these things be happening in any particular order?” He stepped forward and grasped the hem of Wade’s shirt, pulling it up and over his head. Slowly, he dragged his fingers back down Wade’s chest. “‘Cause the ninja thing is already done, but I feel like therapy appointments can sometimes take a while.”

“Fuck!” Wade grabbed Matt by his hips and hoisted him up, letting Matt wrap his legs around his waist. “Baby boy?” he questioned.   
  
“Yes. Please. Now.”

“Good,” Wade said, as he started to move towards the bedroom. “No time jumps. The next chapter starts back up again right here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BONUS MIDWEEK CHAPTER!!!!
> 
> And yes, Wade. The next chapter is half written, and it does start up right where this one left off. No fading to black this time.
> 
> This fic is almost done. I hate to guess how many chapters are left, because I'm always wrong and I always go over, but if I'm thinking maybe three? I might also need to make this a series, because I have a few little stories I would like to tell that didn't really fit into the big picture here. If there is something you would like to see, now is the time to let me know - either in the comments or you can always come shout at me on Tumblr. I need friends!!


	26. Twenty-Six

Wade stumbled over his own feet as he moved towards the bedroom. Matt was doing something with his fingers, running them behind Wade’s ears and down the side of his neck and over his shoulders, and it was making his vision go grey around the edges as all the blood rushed down to his dick. 

_ [Hold on a second.] _

_ What?!? Why????? _

_ [How did we end up being in charge of the reunion sex chapter?] _

_ I don’t know. Does it matter? _

_ [It just seems shady is all. Seems like she’d give it to Matty since he’s her favorite.] _

_ Maybe she’s afraid he’d get all emo and shit. Listen, can you back off? I need to focus here. _

Wade dropped Matt unceremoniously onto the bed, following immediately after with a grunt as Matt’s strong legs remained securely wrapped around his waist.

“Wade…” Matt whimpered, bringing his hands to Wade’s face, fingers tracing delicately over the bumps and grooves, across his cheekbones and down the bridge of his nose. “Please tell me this is real.”

“It’s as real as guys like us are gonna get, darkness.” 

“I shouldn’t… I don’t deserve it.”

Wade kissed down Matt’s jawline, drinking in the rough burn of Matt’s stubble against his own skin. “I know a thing about that.” Wade dropped the kisses, choosing instead to focus on rubbing his face against Matt’s, savoring the heat of the friction. 

_ [You look like a fucking cat.] _

_ Shut the fuck up.  _

“I know what it feels like to do bad things… way worse than what you did, Matty. You were trying to do good. You  _ did  _ do good. All I was looking for was a paycheck.”

“Wade!” Matt gasped, lifting his back off the bed and pressing their chests together, arms wrapping around Wade’s neck.

“Hush, daddy.” Wade pushed back into him, using his own weight to force Matt back down to the bed. Beneath him, he felt a tremor run through Matt’s entire body. “Yeah?” he asked, rocking slowly, dragging his chest against Matt’s. “You need it, don’t you?”

Matt clenched his jaw, looking like he was trying to regain his composure. 

_ [Not on our watch.] _

_ Damn straight.  _

“How long has it been,” Wade asked, the weight of his body pressing into Matt’s, knowing the rub of his skin was triggering every single over sensitive nerve in Matt’s body, “since somebody touched you outside of a fight?”

Matt shook his head. “Not since you.”

“Oh sweetheart,” Wade gave a long, slow roll of hips, reveling in the punched out groan that it pulled from between Matt’s lips. “You need it real bad, don’t you? That body of yours needs to be touched. Needs to feel something other than pain? Let me give you what you need, Matty. Let me make you feel good. We can worry about the rest later.”

Matt opened his mouth to speak, and Wade kissed the words away, driving his tongue into Matt’s mouth and biting at his lower lip. Matt panted beneath him, but Wade didn’t stop, instead pausing just long enough to bite down on Matt’s jaw while Matt sucked in one deep breath before forcing their mouths back together. He didn’t slow down until he felt a small but impossibly strong hand on his shoulder. 

“Can I...?” Pete asked tentatively, eyes wet and pleading.

_ [Shit! You’re going to say no, right?] _

_ To Petey-Pie? Never ever. Not once. _

_ [BUT IT’S OUR TURN!!!!] _

_ Yeah, but look at baby boy. He needs it.  _

_ [And we don’t???] _

_ Ok… but consider this. Matty is going to be so oversensitive when Pete’s done with him. And he looks so pretty when he cries. _

_ [...] _

_ [You raise a valid point.] _

_ [Maybe you’re not quite as stupid as I thought you were.] _

_ [You know this is pushing out the trampoline joke, right?] _

_ Yeah, I know. _

_ [You’ve hyped it up a lot now, and it’s not that funny. It’s going to be a big disappointment to everyone.] _

_ Shut up already! _

Wade smiled up at Pete but, as he began to move to the side, Matt’s hand clamped down on his wrist. 

“I need you,” Matt whimpered, blinking up at him.

“Awww, shush daddy. I’m not going anywhere.” Wade kept a hand on Matt’s chest as he moved to sit at the top of the bed, pillowing Matt’s head in his lap. “There will be plenty left for us once baby boy has gotten what he needs.”

Wade brought his hands to trail through Matt’s hair as he watched Pete - having already pulled off his own shirt and pants and clad only in tight, red boxer-briefs - crawl up Matt’s body. Pete’s lithe legs moved to bracket Matt’s thick thighs and his arms wrapped around Matt’s chest, hauling him up to sitting.

Matt sobbed, pressing his nose into Pete’s neck.

“Shh…” Pete soothed him, running his hands up and down Matt’s back. “It’s ok, Matty. It’s going to be ok. We’ve got you.”

“I don’t deserve…”   
  
“Hey,” Pete interrupted. He pushed Matt back slightly, pulling the man’s face out from the crook of his neck so he could look at it. He took one of Matt’s hands and placed it on his chest. “Listen to me, because I’m only going to say this once. I’m only going to ask once, and I need you to tell me the truth ok? Not what you think we want to hear, or what’s right, or what you think you  _ deserve _ , but the truth. Because I can’t do this again. If you take off again, leave us for the greater good or whatever, it will break me, do you understand.”

“He does have abandonment issues,” Wade added.

“Not the time, Pool.”

“Noted.”

_ [Idiot.] _

_ Shut the fuck up. _

“So I need to know, and we can’t all be human lie detectors so I’m trusting you to tell the truth. Do you want this? Do you want to be here, with us? Not just now, but for the long term? Because this,” he gestured between himself and Wade. “This isn’t a game. This is it for me. And we both want you to be a part of that, but only if you’re going to take it as seriously as we do, and that means we’re a team and you don’t get to decide to just take off and ignore that team because you decided - by yourself - without talking to anyone else, that it was the right thing to do. Do you understand?”

Matt nodded, mutely.

“And? I need you to say it. Do you want to be with us?”

“I do,” Matt whispered. “I really do.”

“Then I forgive you, and that’s good enough for now. We can talk about the rest later.”

“And you?” Matt asked, reaching a hand behind him and placing it on Wade’s thigh.

Wade shrugged. “You had me at hello.”

“Wade…”

“No, daddy, I’m serious. I thought this was settled at the start of the chapter. And besides, anything that’s good enough for baby boy is already too good for me.”

“Ok, but…”

“No.” Pete placed a single finger against Matt’s lips. His other hand went to Matt’s chest and, as he spoke, he slowly pushed Matt back down into Wade’s lap. “No more. Not tonight. Tonight, it’s just this.” He stroked a hand slowly across Matt’s chest. “Do you remember what you said to me, that first night in your apartment?” He leaned down and whispered directly into Matt’s ear, so quietly that Wade could hardly make out the words. “Let us take care of you. Even though you proved that you don’t need it. Let us take care of you, for one night. Can we do that? Please?”

_ [Hold up.] _

_ WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM?!?!?! _

_ [We shouldn’t be in charge of this.] _

_ Excuse you? _

_ [Come on. I’m supposed to be the asshole here, not you. Look at them. Look at Matty and the expression on his face. Don’t you want to hear what’s going on in his head right now?] _

_ …Yeah… I suppose you’re right. THIS TIME. Don’t let it go to your head. _

_ [Our head.] _

_ Whatever. _

_ [Also!!] _

_ Oh my god, what?!?! You were the one complaining this was taking too long. _

_ [I figured out why we had control for the start of this chapter.] _

_ Is it important enough that it needs to be shared right now? _

_ [It really is.] _

Wade pulled a small bottle of lube out of his pocket and passed it to Pete.

_ It doesn’t make a single bit of sense that we would have brought that with. _

_ [Shhh… just let it happen. Take it away, writer lady!] _

***

Matt couldn’t help but pinch the outside of his thigh, just to be sure he wasn’t dreaming again. He felt Pete reach out a hand to Wade, heard Wade pass Pete a bottle of lube, and then Pete’s lips were on his and his senses were too overwhelmed to process anything else. 

“Missed you.” Pete spoke between kisses, and the hand he trailed down Matt’s chest felt like it was burning hot. “Been thinking about all the things we could be doing to you, instead of you being out there doing things with other people.”

Matt shook his head frantically. “There’s nobody, I swear. Nobody.”

Pete hummed thoughtfully, one thumb brushing gently across Matt’s nipple. When he spoke again, Matt could hear just a hint of insecurity in his voice. “We haven’t been with anybody else either. We could… I mean, if you wanted, we could go without…”

“Yes!” Matt couldn’t help but interrupt. “Please, yes. I want that.”

Pete’s smile rippled the air in the room as his heartbeat sped up. “I want that too, Matty.” He kissed across Matt’s chest, sucking a red welt into his pec. 

“Mark him up, baby boy.” Matt heard Wade run his hand down Pete’s spine. “Help him remember who he belongs to.”

Matt felt teeth as Pete grinned across his skin, and then he was sucking another bruise into Matt’s side, and another onto his hip, and one more on the inside of his thigh as he pushed Matt’s boxers off and down. Pete’s hands came to his legs, bringing his feet to the bed, pushing his knees up and wide. There was movement above him again - Wade handing Pete a pillow, which Pete slid carefully under Matt’s hips. “Want to look at you,” Pete moved back between Matt’s legs, kissing along his jaw and neck. He heard the soft  _ snick  _ of the bottle of lube opening, and then Pete was trailing kisses back up his skin as a single finger circled around his tight hole. He bit his lip to stifle a moan as Pete pushed in to the first knuckle while simultaneously biting down on Matt’s nipple.

“Oh no,” Wade said darkly. He lifted up Matt’s head and slid out from underneath, and then Matt felt him move off the bed and walk down to stand by their feet. “We can’t have that. Wanna hear those noises, daddy. Can’t have you hiding them from us.” Wade pinched at the mark Pete had already made on his hip, and Matt could hear his own blood vessels bursting beneath the surface of his skin. Wade laid his hand flat over the mark, holding Matt’s hip still.   
  
Matt gave a small shout as Wade thrust a finger in alongside Pete’s, the stretch too much too soon.

“There it is, daddy.” 

Matt squirmed, not trying to get away, just trying to find some sort of relief from the two disparate sensations attacking the inside of his body. Pete’s finger was smooth and soft, stroking slowly inside of him, while Wade’s was hard and rough, attacking his prostate with each thrust. Wade’s hand clamped down harder and Matt tried to still. 

“Ohh… fuck…” he groaned, as Pete slipped his finger out, then carefully, lovingly slipped two back in alongside Wade’s single digit. Wade leaned forward, kissing along Pete’s spine as Pete sucked more bruises into Matt’s chest. Matt breathed deeply, trying to relax as the sensations buzzed through his body. The thrum of Wade’s heartbeat pulsed against Matt’s skin where Wade’s hand was pressed against his hip. The rise and fall of Pete’s ribcage pressed into him where Pete’s chest brushed against his abs. The sound of all three of their breathing filled Matt’s ears. The heat of their bodies filled the room, washing over his skin as he let his eyes flutter closed in ecstasy. 

And then he felt the tip of Wade’s middle finger pressed against his tightly stretched rim. “Wade. Oh shit, Wade.” He arched his back, trying to get more contact.

“Too much?” Wade asked, stilling his hand.

Matt shook his head. “No, don’t stop.”

“Jesus, I missed you, darkness.” Wade grinned as Matt shouted when cold lube was poured directly over his ass and a fourth finger was pushed in alongside the other three.

Matt knew he was babbling. He could hear the almost constant stream of “missed you so much” and “please” and “Wade” and “Pete” spilling from his mouth. He tried to stop, tried to hold it back, but every time he tried to regain his composure Wade would speed up the pace and Matt would fall apart again. They had to move in unison now; the tight squeeze of Matt’s ass pushing their fingers together prevented much more, and through an unspoken agreement the two seemed to decide to split the difference - quicker than Pete’s slow, sensual pace, but slower than Wade’s near violent attack. 

Above him, Matt felt Wade nudge Pete’s cheek with his nose. Pete turned his head and Wade claimed his mouth in a deep, wet kiss. “I think he’s ready for you,” Wade finally said when they separated. Matt’s ass clamped down on nothing as the two men pulled out, the emptiness so sudden it was almost painful, and Matt realized his senses were already going fuzzy when Wade was suddenly at his head again and the two men were arranging him, manhandling him into position, his head resting on Wade’s reclined chest, Wade’s hands gripping at his thighs, holding his legs up and open. 

“Shh…” Wade soothed him. “It’s ok. Baby boy is gonna take good care of you.”

Pete’s warm body settled over his and Matt felt the blunt pressure as Pete lined up and slowly, carefully, pushed into him. Tiny tremors ran through Pete’s body as he held himself back, never rushing, carving a space for himself inside of Matt. He kissed along Matt’s jaw, one hand sliding across Wade’s chest to cradle Matt’s head, the other holding on tight to Wade’s hip. When Pete bottomed out, all three men groaned in unison. “Oh fuck, Matty.” Pete gasped for breath, his heart pounding as if he’d just run a marathon. 

Matt ran his fingers through Pete’s hair then smoothed them down Pete's cheek, cupping his chin and guiding his lips to meet Matt’s own. He breathed in the taste of Pete’s mouth, running his tongue over the seam of his lips. “Need you to move. Please,” he murmured softly as they pulled apart.

Pete rocked his hips.

And Matt… it was like Matt’s entire world was set on fire. Pete’s body was pressed tight against his chest, and Wade’s body was pressed tight against his back, and both were suddenly burning hot. The slow drag of his cock against Matt’s prostate felt like flames licking the inside of his body, shooting up Matt’s spine, filling his gut and his chest. He wrapped his legs around Pete’s hips, clinging to him desperately as his hands cupped Pete’s face and pulled him back down into a messy kiss, teeth and tongues and Matt knew he needed to breathe soon, but he couldn’t bear to let Pete pull away. 

Pete was hardly moving at all, just small rolls of his hips that were somehow leaving Matt feeling completely gutted. He was beginning to sweat - small beads of moisture gathering on his skin, sliding between their bodies. Matt’s cock was leaking, too - drooling pre-come as it slid against the ridges of Pete’s abs. Neither of them spoke, their mouths too busy claiming each other, remember the curve of the other’s lips, the taste of their tongues. Matt could feel the tears rolling down Pete’s cheeks and he hung on tighter, wishing he could kiss away the hurt, open himself up and let Pete pour in all the pain that Matt had caused him. Finally, when Matt couldn’t hold on anymore, when his lungs were burning and his lips were going numb, he let his head roll back limply to rest against Wade’s shoulder. His body went lax, trusting Pete and Wade to hold on to him, to catch him. Pete picked up his speed - short, shallow thrusts that never allowed their bodies to separate for more than a second. Pete’s chest on his chest, Wade’s chest on his back, building even more friction, building heat that threatened to burn him alive. Just when Matt was afraid he couldn’t take it anymore, Pete pushed himself up onto his hands. He had a brief moment of relief - a gasp of clarity as he tried to pull himself out of the flames - and then Pete grabbed his shins, folding him practically in half, and -  _ oh God  _ \- Matt hadn’t thought he could get any deeper yet somehow he suddenly was, and the fire inside Matt was spreading.

Why had he ever left? How could he have ever left? How had he survived without this?  _ I need you.  _ Matt tried to grab onto Pete, to pull him close again but his arms weren’t working properly and his fists clenched and unclenched in midair.  _ I need you. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. Please. _

“You’re ok,” Wade soothed, running one hand over the outside of Matt’s thigh. His other arm was hooked around Matt’s chest, holding him tightly in place. Matt realized he’d been begging. “We’ve got you, sweetheart. You’re ok. We’re not going to let you go.” He reached his hand between Matt and Pete’s bodies and wrapped it around Matt’s cock just as Pete pulled nearly all the way out of him and slammed back in. 

Matt came with a shout as the fire overwhelmed him.

When Matt’s senses came back online, Pete was panting above him, forehead pressed into his chest. Wade was again running one hand through Matt’s hair, the other up and down Pete’s back. Matt could feel Pete softening inside him. His own release was sticky between their bodies. 

“Holy shit, Petey. You picked up some new tricks while I was gone.” Matt was breathing heavily and his voice sounded wrecked, nearly too out of breath to form words.

Pete laughed, and he and Matt both grimaced at the sensation of Pete moving inside of him. “You back with us? We lost you there for a minute.”

Matt shook his head as his language escaped him. “Never better,” he managed to get out as Pete rolled off of him, flopping down next to them on the bed, bringing an arm up to cover his eyes as he basked in the afterglow. It was only as Matt shifted, rolling his body slightly, that he realized the thing poking him in the back was Wade’s extremely hard dick. 

And, ok, Matt wasn’t thinking clearly. He was willing to admit that. His brain wasn’t fully back online and his limbs weren’t functioning properly and, yeah, he wanted Wade to be happy of course, but preferably after a reasonable recovery period. So he couldn’t say what he’d been expecting when he rolled over and slid down Wade’s body, turning his head to nuzzle his cheek against Wade’s cock. 

He could, however, say with complete certainty, that he hadn’t been expecting Wade to growl - low, and dark, and so quiet that Matt suspected even Pete didn’t hear it, sprawled out as best as he could next to them on the far too small queen-sized bed. 

Matt was fully aware that there was something wrong with him - more than one thing, if he was being totally honest - but there was some part of his brain that confused adrenaline with arousal and the noise Wade made was dangerous. It made him want to start a fight he knew he couldn’t win. Made him want to get roughed up, pinned down, and forced to submit. 

“Darkness?”

Pete opened one eye and lifted up his head, noticing the change in Wade’s tone and demeanor even through his sex-drunk haze. 

Matt swallowed hard. “Yeah, Wade?”

“You remember the safeword?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok listen, remember that thing I said about three more chapters? Just ignore me. I'm so much wordier than I think I am. 
> 
> This is only the first half of what was supposed to be this whole chapter. I suspect that there will be another mid-week chapter because the next one is half done, but if there isn't you can probably just assume that Wade murdered me in my sleep. 
> 
> And for the sweetheart who admitted that they were just here to see Pete get railed... Don't worry. Everyone here is vers af and there's still time!


	27. Twenty-Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warning: There is a hint of bad aftercare in this chapter. See the end notes for more info if that is a concern. It's a one-time thing under very specific circumstances, so I don't feel like it warrants a tag, but please let me know if you disagree and I will update the tags accordingly.

“You remember the safeword?”

_ Oh.  _

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s Jersey.”

Wade slipped out from beneath Matt, flipped him onto his stomach, and had settled between his thighs before Matt even had time to process what was happening. Wade’s teeth sunk into Matt’s left asscheek, and he let out a squeal. 

“Wade! Oh, oh fuck, Wade, it’s so much. Please! I can’t…”

“I didn’t ask, daddy. And I don’t think I care.” Wade had a hand firmly in the small of Matt’s back, pinning him down to the mattress as he licked across the inside of Matt’s thighs and over the curve of his ass, cleaning Pete’s release off of his skin. “You taste so good, like this baby boy.” Wade ran his free hand lovingly down what he could reach of Pete’s leg.

Matt whimpered. 

“Promises have been made, Darkness, and I have been waiting patiently. But now it’s my turn and I don’t think anything could keep me from this ass.” Wade kissed up Matt’s spine before flopping his weight fully onto Matt’s back and whispering in his ear: “Except your safe word, obvs, because nothing is sexier than consent.”

Matt cranked his head to the side, catching as much as he could of Wade’s mouth in a messy kiss. “Do your worst.”

Wade grinned, then began to kiss again across Matt’s neck and shoulders, and Matt allowed himself to get lost for just a moment in the warmth of Wade’s breath, the slide of his skin as he rolled off of Matt’s back, the pressure of his palm pushing down between Matt’s shoulder blades, holding him - 

_ *Slap!* _

Matt shouted as Wade’s free hand landed sharply on his ass. “Oh, shit. Wade. Wait!”

_ *Slap! Slap!* _

“I would say” * _Slap!*_ “that you’ve been a bad daddy,” * _Slap!*_ “but I think you might believe me” * _Slap! Slap!*_ “and I don’t want you to think you’re being punished.” * _Slap!*_ “So instead” * _Slap!* *Slap!*_ “Just know that I love this.” * _Slap!*_ “And I know you do too.” * _Slap!*_

Matt was sobbing, tears streaming down his face as his body tried - without the help of his brain - to escape from where Wade had his chest pinned to the mattress. Unfortunately, Wade’s genetically mutated muscles meant that Matt didn’t have a chance, and all he’d managed to do was get his knees under his hips, chest and face pressed firmly into the mattress, ass up high in the air. 

Matt wailed again as he felt Wade’s breath ghost across his burning hot skin. His senses were long past going fuzzy, all of his attention focused on what Wade was doing, and he jumped when he felt Pete’s delicate fingers close around his own hand. 

Once, about three months after the Battle of New York, Matt had come as close as he’s ever been to having a nervous breakdown. The entire city had been under construction for weeks - the constant pounding and vibrations invading every cell of Matt’s being, giving him headaches in the courtroom, drowning out the sounds of movement when he fought, chasing away any hope of sleep. He hadn’t known Jessica for long at that point, which had made it especially embarrassing when he’d shown up at her shitty office/apartment, dropped to his knees, and begged for her to spank him. 

But it had worked. She’d gotten over her initial shock and, while he knew she’d still been holding back, she’d taken him all the way up to his edge. The world had gone quiet. He’d been able to breathe. He’d been able to sleep and, the next day, he’d been able to train his mind to filter out the extra noise.

Matt had just an instant to remember that moment of absolutely perfect clarity, and to replace it in his mind with this one, before his world faded to nothingness except the softness of Pete’s lips as they pressed gently against the inside of his wrist and the heat of Wade’s mouth as he -

“Oh SHIT!” Matt wailed as Wade’s tongue fucked into him without preamble. “Holy fucking shit, Wade!” His hands scrambled for purchase in the bedsheets, slipping on the silk beneath him. He was loose from Pete, and Wade slipped into him easily, tongue curing to tug viciously at Matt’s rim. His fingers dug into Matt’s hips and Matt keened, tears flowing freely again, breath coming in ragged gasps as Wade pulled away just long enough to nip at the spot where Matt’s ass met his thigh, before diving back in again, near violent pokes of his tongue mixed with wet, sloppy kisses that left Matt wondering what was coming next, Wade’s fingers digging into the bruises that his hand had left behind.

“Please.”

It took Matt a moment to realize that he was the one who had spoken. 

Wade didn’t stop, but he did slow down, flattening his tongue over Matt’s hole before finally pulling away with a groan. “What are you begging for, daddy?”

Matt shook his head. His thighs were trembling.

“You don’t even know, do you?” Wade kissed along Matt’s lower back as he spoke. “How did you make it so long without us? Don’t even know what you’re begging for.” He brought his hand down on Matt’s ass again and, while it burned like hell, Matt could also tell that it was significantly softer than the previous times. “Fortunately, I know what you need, Darkness.”

Wade pulled away and Matt didn’t bother to track his movements. He let his mind slip into nothingness, until the only thing tethering him to the room was Pete’s fingers intertwined with his own. 

He didn’t try to move when he felt Wade’s cock press up against him and slide into what still remained of Pete’s come (although he did, for just a moment, wonder if anyone else could hear the wet, squelching noise that filled his ears). He was well past overstimulated, his ass throbbing and his legs aching, his face resting in a puddle of his own snot and tears. He let his body go limp, trusting Pete’s hand in his own to ground him; trusting Wade’s hands on his hips to hold him up as Wade slammed into him. 

It wasn’t until Wade reached under their bodies and cupped Matt’s soft cock that he came back into his senses. 

“Wade! Oh God, Wade! I can’t.”

“Hush. Yes you can.”

Matt shook his head frantically as Wade rolled his balls in his palm. “Can’t. Oh, shit Wade. It hurts, please!”

“Yeah,” Wade grinned against his skin and nipped at his shoulder, “but you like it when it hurts, don’t you daddy?”

“Fuck!”

“That’s a lot of cursing for you, darkness,” Wade chided. “You’re going to need to say some Hail Mary’s later, I think.”

“Not sure the cursing…” Matt shuddered and groaned as Wade’s hand drifted lower, massaging his perineum. “Not sure the cursing is my biggest problem.”

“Hey!” Pete slapped his wrist reproachfully. “We said we weren’t talking about that anymore tonight.”

“Yeah,” Wade grunted as he adjusted his angle so he was slamming into Matt’s prostate with each thrust. “Plus I’m a little offended you’re still speaking in full sentences. Keep it up and I’ll gag you.”

Matt let out a low whine.

“Yeah? You like that idea, Darkness? We’ll have to make that happen, then. Not next time, because our fans have some very specific requests, but soon…”

Matt was about to ask what the hell Wade was talking about, when Wade pushed down on his perineum while giving a particularly vicious snap of his hips. 

Matt screamed as the orgasm tore through him, hot and sharp and painful, ass clamping down on Wade as his body pulsed from the force of it. 

“Oh, fuck. Yes! Oh god. So good. So fucking good, shit. Fuck!” Wade’s hips stuttered as he thrust once, twice, and then came inside of Matt, adding to the mess Pete had already left there, before collapsing on top of him. “Missed you.” Wade kissed the sides of Matt’s forehead, the back of his neck, the tops of his shoulders. Everywhere he could reach without moving. “Shit, Matty. I missed you so much. Never again, do you hear me? Never. You fucking idiot. You stay right here, and if you need somebody to hurt you then you ask me, you complete and utter jackass.”

Matt hummed softly, feeling the vibrations of Wade’s speech more than he heard the words. Any remaining tension left his body as he closed his eyes and allowed Wade’s weight to push him deeper into the mattress. 

***

Pete ran his thumb gently over the pulse point in Matt’s wrist, watching the man’s eyes flutter. He knew Matt was too far gone to feel it, too lost in the overstimulation to process much of anything, but it was a pleasant reminder that he was there. That he was real. That he’d come back to them. 

He frowned, then immediately hated himself for the wave of melancholy that was rolling over him. This was what he wanted - what he’d been hoping for. And yet, now he knew that Matt was safe in the tower, he was filled with self doubt. Had he messed things up by sleeping with him right away? Were they moving too fast? Cap trusted him to keep an eye on Daredevil; would Matt take that seriously? Would Matt want to listen to him? He knew he was young and hadn’t been Spider-Man as long as Matt had been Daredevil. Hell, Daredevil had been an inspiration to him - a mentor even - back when he was first getting started, and now… Why would Matt ever listen to him? 

Wade came back to his senses with a grunt that rocked his entire body, causing Matt to whimper beneath him. He muttered something - and Pete wasn’t sure if it was to Matt or to himself - kissed Matt gently between the shoulder blades, then rolled off, head coming to rest in Pete’s lap. “Hi baby boy,” Wade grinned up at him. “Matty came back.”

Pete nodded, not trusting his voice not to crack.

“He’s pretty out of it,” Wade continued. “Bet he’ll sleep for at least a few hours. You want to join him? I know you didn’t sleep well last night. Bed’s small, but there’s room enough for two. I could…”

“No,” Pete croaked out, and Wade’s eyes immediately grew wide with concern. 

“Sweetheart. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Pete whispered, knowing Wade would hear the lie immediately. He kept his eyes locked on Matt, unable to risk looking Wade in the face, too afraid he might start to cry if he saw the concern he knew would be written all over it. Matt’s ass was beet red, already starting to turn purple in spots. Pete stared at it, transfixed. He and Wade had done plenty of things together. They’d played enough with plugs of different sizes for him to understand the concept of that edge between pleasure and pain. There was nothing quite as good, for Pete, as that feeling of being so full that a single movement might cause him to fall apart. But Wade had never hit him.

“Petey-Pie.” Wade’s voice was the gentlest Pete had ever heard it, and Pete realized that he had misconstrued Pete’s intrigue for horror… revulsion, even. “He likes that. You know that, right? And I like it because he likes it. I would never… Not unless you asked me to, and even then I might not want to, not unless you explained why you suddenly wanted…”

“No,” Pete cut him off, quickly looping his hands under Wade’s armpits and pulling him up to sitting. He wrapped his arms around Wade’s larger frame and pressed his forehead into Wade’s back. “No, I know that. I know you wouldn’t, and I don’t want… That’s not what this is. I just… can we?” he gestured to the bedroom door. Wade nodded, and the two men stood, quietly found their clothes, and got dressed. “Jarvis, can you stop Matt from hearing our conversation?” Pete asked the AI.

There was a brief pause. “I have done my best, sir. However, I am not sure that my audio-blocking protocols are fully effective for Mr. Murdock. I can monitor his status and inform you when he wakes, if you would like.   
  
“Yes, please. Thanks J.” Pete walked over and sat down heavily on the couch. Wade sat down next to him, and Pete curled into his side. They sat in silence for several moments, Wade waiting patiently as Pete tried to find his words. “I’m just scared he’s going to leave again. I’m scared that this is all happening too fast. I’m scared that we can’t trust him. I’m scared that if he goes, then you might…”

“Hey,” Wade cupped his chin and lifted his face, their eyes coming to meet for the first time since Pete had started to fall apart. “You know you’re stuck with me, right? You don’t need to worry about that; you couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”

Pete smiled at him genuinely. “I wouldn’t let you go. I’d web you to the ceiling until you came to your senses.”

“Probably just take the last three words off that last sentence, baby boy.”

Pete laughed and kissed him. Wade brought his hands to rest on Pete’s hips. 

“It’s a lot, Webs. You’re allowed to feel all the things.”

“Sirs,” Jarvis interrupted them. “Mr. Murdock is waking. Shall I turn off the audio dampening?”

“Yeah, J. That would be fine.” Pete stood, holding on to Wade’s hand to pull him up to his feet. 

_ Are you ok? _ Wade mouthed silently.

Pete nodded and squeezed his hand, and together they walked back into the bedroom.

Matt was sitting up in the bed, eyes wide and shining with unshed tears, hair wild. “I… It was so quiet. I thought you left.”

Wade moved quickly to sit next to Matt, scooping him up into his arms. “We’re right here, Matty. I’ve got you. Nobody left.”   


Pete sat down next to them, smoothing Matt’s hair as he spoke. “We had Jarvis block the sound, that’s all. We thought you might sleep. You look tired.”

“There’s something else, though. You don’t… you don’t have to be here if you don’t want to. You don’t owe me anything.”

“Of course we don’t want to leave. Matty, we just got you back. Why would we…? We just wanted to let you sleep. That’s all.”

A look of pain flashed across Matt’s face as he buried himself deeper into Wade’s arms. “I know when you’re lying, Pete.”

“Hey,” Wade interrupted, voice firm. “He’s not lying. Pete needed to talk, you were sleeping, and we didn’t want to wake you.” Pete watched the way Wade’s hands spread out across Matt’s back, covering as much skin as possible, grounding him. “It’s a lot, you know? We woke up this morning thinking you were dead. We saw your body last night, shot and lying on the ground, and now all of a sudden you’re here? I shouldn’t have left you to wake up on your own after what we did, and that’s on me, but obviously, he’s going to have feelings about all this. That doesn’t mean we don’t want you around.”

_ Thank you,  _ Pete mouthed.

Wade nodded at Matt. “He’s a human lie detector. There’s no use trying to beat around the bush.”

“I’m sorry,” Matt said softly. “I wanted to warn you. I did. I know I messed everything up…”

“Sirs.” Pete jumped at Jarvis’s voice. “I apologize for the interruption, but Mr. Stark just asked me to tell you that he will be here in five minutes. He kindly requested that everyone be wearing pants when he arrives.”

Wade cursed. “Can you tell him it’s a bad time?”

“I do not believe that warning would be heeded.”

“It’s ok.” Matt tried to pull away from Wade, but Wade pulled him in closer, holding him tight to his chest. 

“It’s not ok, but we don’t have a choice.”

Carefully, the two men helped Matt into a pair of loose, soft sweatpants, and then all three moved to the living area. Pete watched the way Wade kept a hand on Matt at all times and tried to echo it, keeping ahold of Matt’s hand, feeling his rough fingers as they interlaced with his own, remembering with guilt the way Matt had taken care of him when he’d been hurt. It seemed so long ago…

“Hey.” Matt interlaced their fingers together and kissed Pete softly on the cheek. “Wade’s right, you know. It’s a lot. You have every right to be upset and I shouldn’t have let it get to me like that. We’ll work it out, ok? I know I need to do right by you… I mean, assuming that’s what you want. You don’t have to. We could ask Steve to find somebody else to...”

Pete threw his arms around Matt’s neck, kissing his full, soft lips and feeling the scrape of his beard. Of course they’d find a way to make it work. They had to…

“Gross.” Pete pulled back at the sound of Tony’s voice. “I thought I specifically told Jarvis that you should be clothed and not necking like teenagers when I got here.”

“You only specified pants, sir,” Jarvis informed him, sounding slightly insulted. “There was no reference to shirts or activities.”

“Hmmm…” Tony narrowed his eyes at them, then waved his hand in dismissal. “Jarvis, open a window please. I don’t want to think about what it smells like in here. Anyway, I went to your apartment first,” he nodded at Pete and Wade. “You know, the big fancy one I gave you that has multiple bedrooms to help protect my delicate sensitivities. Thought you might use the space. Spread out a bit.”

“Does that mean I’m allowed to leave?” Matt asked cautiously.

“Yes of course,” Tony sighed, as if being put upon. “All charges have been dropped, don’t leave without an escort, but that’s just for your protection, there are still people out there loyal to the Kingpin, blah blah blah. And you heard Capsicle’s orders - no Daredevil without Spider-Man by his side. But other than that, you’re a free man. Oh.” He turned to Pete. “Pepper asked me to deliver your suit for that gala next month. I thought I would be nice and hang it in your closet for you, since it’s custom made. Do I even want to ask?”

Pete stared at him blankly.

“There’s no bed, Pete. In your bedroom. In the master bedroom of the luxury apartment that I provided, in my own tower, at my own expense, there is no bed.”

Next to him, Wade snorted.

“Instead,” Tony continued, raising the volume of his voice, “I find a trampoline and… and it hurts me to say this out loud, you know that, right?”

Pete felt on the verge of hysterical laughter.

“Instead,” Tony repeated, “I find a trampoline and a table full of sex toys. What the actual fuck, Pete?”

Pete couldn’t help it. He covered his mouth with his hand, trying to hide the laughter that shook his shoulders and brought tears to the corners of his eyes. 

“I mean, I get the sex toys. I don’t want to think about it, but I get it. But what’s the trampoline for?”

Next to him, Matt reached out without looking and grabbed Wade’s wrist. “Did you…? Did he…?”

“Yup.”

“Oh my God. That’s the dream.”

“It is?” Pete asked.

“Of course it is,” Matt squeezed Pete’s hand. 

“What’s the trampoline for?” Tony asked again.

“I would have never even considered a trampoline but, of course, it makes the most sense. It’s genius really. Your idea?” Matt kissed Pete’s knuckles.

“Nope. That was all Wade.” 

“I should have known.” Matt shook his head, then lifted Wade’s hand to his lips. “I’m so sorry. I missed so much.”

“What is the trampoline for?!?!” Tony demanded.

“I mean, you didn’t miss it, it’s still there,” Pete said shyly. “It kind of makes a big mess so we don’t use it all the time but… we could… if you wanted.”

“If you’re good,” Wade added. “As a treat.”

“WHAT IS HAPPENING IN MY HOUSE AND WHAT IS THE TRAMPOLINE FOR?!?!?!”

Through his laughter, Pete was certain he saw Wade wink at an empty corner of the room.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warning:
> 
> ***Basically Wade and Matt go at it pretty rough, after which Matt falls asleep. Pete is having a bit of a panic attack so he and Wade leave the bedroom to talk through it. While they're gone, Matt wakes up in a panic thinking they've left. Wade immediately takes care of him and things get better fairly quickly. 
> 
> Also, sexual abuse survivor Wade Wilson says "hard pass" to Dub-Con.
> 
> Also, also, disregard those things I said about however many more chapters. I should know myself better than that... 
> 
> Also, also, also: Leave me a comment? Let me know what you think... how you're doing... all the stuff. I listen. For those of you filthy horndogs (and yes, I definitely include myself in that category) asking for a specific activity in the comments last week, did you notice I'm setting it up for you? I listen!!
> 
> Also, also, also ALSO: if you want little mini-summaries and gifs to go with each chapter, as well as blurbs from whatever I'm reading, random Daredevil headcanons, and just a bunch of thirst-pics, come hang out with me on  Tumblr 


	28. Twenty-Eight

Life in the tower was challenging for Matt.

It wasn’t because it was loud, although it was. Too close to Midtown, SHIELD helicarriers buzzing overhead, the constant coming and going of agents and staff and Avengers alike, random explosions cooked up in a lab somewhere, the hammering of whatever Stark was working on that day, the buzzing of technology through the walls...

It wasn’t because it stunk, although it did. Science experiments and Asgardians and weapons and blood. Too many meals being cooked, although they were admittedly higher end than the meals of his former neighbors. Too many bodies; too many of them not quite human. 

It wasn’t even because the air felt different, although it did. Close, yet still too far away from Hell’s Kitchen. The breeze - when there even was one - cascaded off the tall buildings around them, twisting and turning. The flaps of birds were too close, the movement of the river was too far. Occasionally an interdimensional portal opened up... 

He’d never noticed it before, probably because he’d never been there that long and because the time he had spent in the tower prior to now was time his senses had been fully occupied. An hour here or there for a briefing when the Avengers needed Daredevil’s help with something, an evening for one of Stark’s gatherings, the occasional glorious night passed out in Steve and Bucky’s bed. Even when he’d first arrived this time - the days and nights he’d spent alone after turning himself in - he’d been too busy worrying about what was about to happen to really take the time to listen and feel…

The tower had a pulse. Matt knew it was the arc reactor, deep down in the bowels of the building, keeping the lights running and the screens buzzing and the AI talking… It was a good thing. This tower was a beast and he could only imagine how much electricity it would have taken to run it the traditional way. Matt was all for clean energy…

Still. It never stopped. 

Add it all together, and Matt was going insane. He longed for that moment of clarity he’d had the morning Pete and Wade had shown up in his apartment cell and Wade had spanked him until his ears had rung and he’d lost all sense of up and down. He’d ask for it again, knew Wade would be happy to give it to him, but it had freaked Pete out and Pete didn’t deserve to be forced to deal with Matt’s shit right now. Normally he’d handle it himself. He’d head out to the streets and find somebody to punch until the anxiety worked its way out of his system, except…

Matt calmed his heart and listened to Pete’s slow, deep breathing as he slept, peacefully, one arm thrown over Wade’s chest, one leg hooked over Matt’s shin. The heat of his skin felt like a brand. It was almost enough. Matt could almost lose himself in just that patch of contact. He knew he had nothing to complain about. Things had turned out so much better than he could have possibly hoped for. So much better than he allowed himself to believe most days. It was bliss. It was more than he deserved. And yet... 

Matt carefully untangled himself, dressed and, like so many nights before, made his way down to the gym.

Having wrapped his hands while he walked, Matt didn’t waste a second before losing himself in the sounds and sensations of skin on leather, the bright flash of pain when his fist met the bag, the pleasantly dull thud. It wasn’t the same as going out, but it helped, clearing his mind, letting him focus, narrowing down all of his attention to that single point of contact, the ache in his bones, the heat of his own blood on his knuckles, the salty smell of his own sweat. He breathed in deeply, held it for a moment, and then -

“Hey Matt.”

He jumped, spinning around and practically decking the man behind him. It wasn’t often that someone could sneak up on him. Maybe Natasha. Occasionally Bucky, if he was really trying. But never Clint, and certainly not by accident. It was just another indication of how far out of it he really was. He paused for a moment, calming his breath and regaining his focus. He listened and, missing the familiar whine of Clint’s hearing aids, turned to fully face him before speaking. “Hey Clint. You startled me.”

“So I noticed. You alright?”

“Yeah,” Matt forced himself to smile. “Just working out some extra energy. How about you? Why are you up so late?”

“I’m checking on you.” Clint took a step closer. “Foggy is worried about you, Matt. He says you’ve got the look.”

“And what look is that?”   
  
“He says you look like you’re about to do something stupid.”

Matt laughed genuinely at that. “Foggy thinks I’m always about to do something stupid. He thinks I’m always just getting done doing something stupid, too.”

Clint smiled back. “Well he’s a smart guy.” The two stood in silence for a moment. 

“How’d you get the short straw?”

“What?” Clint sounded genuinely confused.

“If Foggy’s so worried, where is he? Why’d he send you down here instead of harassing me himself like he normally does?”

Clint laughed. “He told me you two had court first thing tomorrow morning, and that one of you had better be awake for it. Plus, you know Foggy. He talks a big game, but he needs his beauty sleep... So… you wanna fight, then?”

“Who? You?”

“Yeah, me. What, you’re too good to fight an Avenger now? Come on. I’m not afraid to hit a blind man.”

“Oh, you’re not, are you?” Matt teased, instinctually moving into a defensive position. “Come on, then. Take your best shot. You’ll never even hear me coming.”

“Ha ha. Yuck it up, jackass. How quickly we forget that I just snuck up on you.”

Matt grinned and it was half snarl, before lashing out with a quick jab/hook/cross combo that had Clint taking a stumbling step backwards. 

“Alright. I see how it is. Come on, man. Let’s go. Show me what you’ve got.”

Matt quickly dropped to one knee and, without hesitating, flipped Clint ass over head.

Clint coughed out a laugh from where he lay on the floor. “Ok. I get it. Jesus, Matt.” He stood, brushing himself off, still smiling. “Let’s even the playing field just a little.” Matt heard Clint crack his shoulder as he walked over to a rack holding a variety of training weapons. He pulled down a bow and a staff, which he handed to Matt after walking back towards him. 

Matt ran his hands over the weapon, feeling the rubbery texture and the slight give. It was solid. A good weight…

“Interesting, huh?” Clint interrupted his thoughts. “Parker invented the stuff. It’ll still hurt if you get hit with it, but not as bad as the real thing. No clue how the kid did it. The bow fires great and everything. Arrows are made out of the same shit, so it’ll hurt if I hit you but it won’t do any real damage. Sorry we don’t have any billy-clubs, but I bet we could get some if you asked.”

“He’s not a kid,” Matt muttered. “And this will do just fine.” He lashed out, aiming the staff at Clint’s feet, but this time Clint blocked him, bringing one end of his bow down to block Matt’s blow, then jabbing it up to knock Matt in the jaw.

Matt grimaced and ran his tongue along his teeth, tasting blood.

“Sorry, man. I thought you’d block…”

Matt bared his teeth, charging Clint who deflected the blow at the last minute. Clint moved swiftly, catching Matt’s elbow as he moved past, using his momentum against him so that Matt felt himself falling towards the ground. He landed on his back with a thud, the staff rolling out of reach.  _ That’s fine,  _ Matt thought to himself, quickly flipping himself back up onto his feet.  _ Wanted to use my hands anyway. _ He sank down into a boxer’s stance, fists raised to block his face.

Clint pulled an arrow out of the quiver on his back and moved to set it in place, but Matt moved fast, grabbing the bow and twisting it in Clint's hands. Clint fought back, muscling the handle of the bow up over Matt’s head, moving behind him and pulling back so that the grip pressed against Matt’s throat. 

Matt stilled, breathing heavy, hands still holding the bow, pushing against it to keep it from crushing his windpipe. 

“What’s gotten into you, Matty?” Clint asked, pulling the bow tighter against Matt’s neck. “I haven’t seen you this bad since Elek--” 

Matt didn’t let Clint finish, bending into his back knee and gripping the bow tightly before lunging forward, tucking into a ball and flipping Clint over his shoulders. The bow clattered to the ground between them, and skidded to rest at Clint’s feet. 

“Bad luck, Murdock,” Clint laughed. In one fluid motion - still lying on the ground - he hooked the edge of the bow with his toe, flipped it into the air, grabbed it, loaded an arrow, and released.

Matt caught the arrow out of the air and, as he paced towards Clint who was scrambling to his feet, he snapped it in half.

“What the hell?!?!”

Matt froze at the small voice coming from behind him. 

“Those are prototypes, Matt! Each one costs like three hundred dollars!”

Matt gritted his teeth. He could feel Clint grinning like an idiot. “You saw him walk in?”

“Of course I did, buddy.”

Matt shook his head and turned to face Pete, forcing his face to soften as he did. “Hey. What are you doing up?”

“What am I…!?! I woke up and you were gone, Matt! I didn’t know where you were. I was worried about you. I thought…” Pete bit his lip, but the damage had already been done. 

“You thought what?” Matt asked, keeping his voice perfectly calm. “That I’d left? That Daredevil was going out on his own?”

“No, I just…”   


“I get it, Pete.” Matt held out his hands, palms up. Surrender. The broken pieces of arrow fell to the ground. There was nobody else he’d surrender to, but Pete wasn’t wrong. Pete had every right to worry. Matt knew he shouldn’t be trusted. “You don’t have to explain. I understand.”

“Matt,” Pete called, even as Matt was already walking past him and out of the gym. “That’s not what I…”

“It’s ok, Pete.” Matt kept his back to the gym as he paused at the door. He wanted to turn back, but he was afraid of what Pete would see in his eyes. Man Without Fear. That’s what they said about him. If they only knew… “You’re not wrong. I’m going to go take a shower and I’ll meet you back in bed, ok? Clint, thank you for your time. Tell Foggy not to worry so much.” He pressed the doors open and walked through them. Before the closing doors cut them off, he heard Clint say, “Keep an eye on him, Parker. I don’t think he’s ok.”

***

If there was one thing that wasn’t up for debate about Matthew Michael Murdock, it was this: the man was fine. Like really good looking. Just stupid attractive. Take, for example, right the fuck now. He was sitting at his desk with his jacket off. He looked tired, if you knew him well enough to know what to look for. The way his lips were pulled a bit tighter than usual, the soft lines under his eyes, mostly hidden by his red glasses. Still, he looked good. They’d had something to do at the courthouse that morning, so all three of them had dressed accordingly. Not that Matt didn’t always look good when he went to work, but court days were something extra special. Now, the sleeves of his light grey dress shirt were rolled up, exposing strong forearms dotted with dark hair. The top button of his collar was undone, his tie was loose, and he looked pleasantly rumpled. His beard was looking a little longer than usual, and if Wade had to guess he’d say the man hadn’t shaved in three or four days. He could tell you from first hand experience that morning that it felt soft when it was rubbed up against your neck… at least the first few times. After that, it started to burn. 

_ [Still feels good, though.] _

_ Fuck yeah, it does! _

Wade ran his hands along his collar bone, knowing it was probably still pink. He dropped his hands lower, running them below the collar of his t-shirt, pressing on the bruise that Matt had sucked there this morning. He let out a slight whimper, and he watched as Matt stiffened.

Wade had a perfect view from the conference room he was sitting in. He wasn’t quite sure what this space was when it wasn’t a makeshift law firm, but he suspected that those shady SHIELD bastards used it for spying on people. The room he was in had something like one of those police-station-one-way-mirror thingies on it, only he knew from looking that there wasn’t a mirror on the other side - just a regular ass wall. No reason to suspect that there might be some Men in Black style government agent sitting on the other side watching you squirm. Jarvis wouldn’t let him listen to what was going on in the other room, of course - something about stupid lawyer-client confidentiality - but that didn’t mean he couldn’t watch. Couldn’t enjoy the way  _ daddy  _ looked when he was working. 

He’d been there all day, and he was willing to admit that he was done with it. Yeah, they were supposed to be staying out of the Fisk trial but, if you knew anything about Matty or that Karen chick - and Wade was really starting to like her; she cleaned up real nice too - you knew they weren’t good at staying out of shit. So Wade had volunteered to help by going through some old articles to see if he could find anything they’d missed. It was exciting enough, especially considering he hadn’t had anything else to do what with both his boyfriends having regular, boring, daytime jobs. And Petey-Pop wouldn’t let him hang out in the lab, so it was nice to be around people and not holed up in their apartment wondering if the Widow was doing naked push ups somewhere, and if she would consent to suffocating him with her thighs. (He’d checked with Pete and Matt and they both said it was totally fine with them as long as Natasha was on board. And then they’d snickered like they both knew Natasha would never be on board, but hey… permission was permission and that was enough for him!)

_ [Also, what’s up with Pete working so much? Doesn’t he understand? He’s on summer vacation! He should be relaxing by a pool with a margarita in one hand and our dick in the other!!] _

_ You know I told him exactly that. He never listens to me... _

Matt’s hair was mostly swept up to the side, a little messy, and Wade wanted to mess it up further. He wanted to get his hands in it. To drop to his knees under Matt’s desk and slide in between his thick thighs, unbutton his pants and get his mouth on…

_ Ohhh…  _ Wade still couldn’t hear what Matt was saying to the woman in his office, but he could definitely see him stop talking, his nostrils flaring, head tilting to the side before turning slightly, pointing his red-lens covered eyes in Wade’s direction, and dragging his lower lip between his teeth. 

Wade let out an audible groan.

The corners of Matt’s mouth ticked up slightly in a tight lipped smirk before he turned his head, returning his attention back to his client.

_ [He totally wants us to jerk it.] _

_ No he does not. Not here. Not in his place of business. He’d KILL me. We’re just supposed to go through these articles and set aside anything where Fisk’s name is mentioned. That’s it. Nothing else. I’m trying to be good here! _

_ [He doesn’t kill anyone. That’s kind of his deal.] _

_ You know what I mean! _

_ [Look at him. He’s not even paying attention to her. She’s probably another one of those tourists he was complaining about last night. Just here to see the tower and shit.] _

Wade looked at Matt, assessing him. Yellow was probably right. He didn’t look like he was paying attention. I mean, he totally got that it didn’t matter where Matt was  _ looking _ , but he at least usually tried to keep his face pointed in the right direction. Matt was hardly even facing the woman in his office. Instead, it was like he was looking past her left shoulder, so that his back was mostly facing Wade, as he drew his hand along his neck, scratching at his hairline and -

_ Oh shit. _

_ [Did he just flex?] _

Matt swiveled in his seat so that Wade could once again see his face, and licked his lips.

Wade groaned.

_ [He definitely wants to listen to you jerk it.] _

Wade thought about it for a moment.

_ Maybe? Maybe just a little? What could it hurt, right? _

Wade was just moving to unbutton his pants when, in his office, Matt said something, stood, and offered his hand in the general direction of the woman sitting across from him. He wasn’t smiling. She didn't accept the handshake. Instead, she stood, said something that looked like a curse, then turned and stormed out of Matt’s office, rushing through the lobby and right out the door without even acknowledging Foggy’s call to ‘Have a nice day!’

Which. Fucking rude. Foggy Nelson was a goddamned saint and deserved to be treated with the utmost respect at all times.

“What was it this time?” Karen asked, when Matt walked out of his office shaking his head.

“These people are ridiculous! I don’t know how we’re supposed to work like this!”

“Oh, come on,” Foggy grinned at him. “It’s not all bad. The coffee here is amazing, and free!”

“Yeah,” Karen added. “I mean, it can’t be as bad as that last guy who said that Black Widow stole his intellectual property, and then came into the office dressed in a full catsuit.”

“Or the person who said that Ant-Man broke into his house, stole his flat-screen TV, and then returned it three days later,” Foggy added.

“This was so much worse. When she called… She said she had a paternity case. That she needed help filing for child support! But once she was in the office she said she thought Cap was the father, but she needed to see his dick to be sure! I swear, these fangirls are going to be the death of me.”

Foggy and Karen were still laughing when Matt walked into Wade’s conference room. “And you,” he said, shutting the door securely behind him. “You’re going to be the death of me too.”

“Me, daddy?” Wade blinked up at him innocently. “You’re the one looking all professional and sexy.” He grabbed Matt’s tie and pulled him down into a searing kiss, a little surprised when he didn’t pull away. “Yellow told me I should jack off.”

“And I am very thankful that you did not listen to Yellow, because this is my place of employment and that is not something I would appreciate during business hours.”

“Right.”

_ Wait. _

_ [Wait.] _

“Does that mean you would appreciate it outside of business hours?”

Matt grinned at him. 

“Oh shit…”

Matt pushed himself between Wade and the table, strewn with papers that Wade no longer had any interest in whatsoever, and settled himself onto Wade’s lap, straddling Wade’s thighs, hands coming to cup Wade’s face, pressing their lips together. The kiss started soft, chaste even, but Matt quickly deepened it, tongue seeking access to Wade’s mouth, right hand moving down until it was wrapped around the side of Wade’s throat, thumb pressed into his windpipe. Not squeezing, not restricting, just a subtle acknowledgement and warning of Matt’s mood. Wade squeezed Matt’s ass with both hands, as Matt licked into his mouth, wet and filthy, tasting every inch of him.

_ [This is wrong.] _

_ What? No. This is not wrong. This is the GREATEST. _

_ [Agreed, but it’s wrong. Matt doesn’t do this. Not at work. Not with Foggy and Karen right in the other room!] _

It was true. Matt was whimpering against Wade’s lips and grinding down on Wade’s lap like he was dying and Wade’s dick was the only cure. When Matt finally pulled back to gasp a breath of air, his lips were red and swollen and his glasses were slightly askew. He moved to dive back in but Wade stopped him, a hand pressed firmly into his chest, and watched as something seemed to crack in Matt’s face. He hunched forward, resting his forehead on Wade’s shoulder, before speaking in a low and trembling voice.

“I need you, Wade. I want you so much. Please. Please don’t make me stop. Let me make you happy. Let me do something right.”

Wade held Matt tight, pulling him even closer into his chest. His whole body was shaking. Wade brought one hand to the back of Matt’s neck and wrapped the other around his forearm, trying to touch as much of his skin as possible. 

“I hate it here. I get… I understand why it’s happening, and I know that it’s temporary. I understand why I can’t be a part of the legal team putting Fisk away. It would be a conflict of interest. I get that. I do. I get that it’s important I stay in the tower, and I’m so glad to have you and Pete back, and I’d do anything to keep you. I will do anything to keep you. But I hate it here. I could be doing so much more. I just want to go home.”

“Hey… Shhh…” Wade rubbed his thumb over Matt’s arm. “It’s ok. It’s not forever. You’ve got us, and we’re not going anywhere. You just need to make it through the next few months, ok?”

Matt shook his head. “Please, Wade. Help me make it go away.”

“At home, darkness. Ok? Back in the apartment. Not here. Not like this.”

_[Lame.]_

_Shut up._

Matt sniffed, and then nodded against his shoulder. Wade could feel the tension moving through his body as he tried to pull himself back under control. 

“It’s going to be ok,” Wade repeated, wishing he could get Matt out of there, but knowing he needed to keep working. He held him for several minutes as Matt breathed in the smell of his skin. He knew he couldn’t do a lot - lifetimes of violence had reduced him to little more than a weapon - but this he could do. He could keep his heart calm, and he could hold this man in his arms. 

Eventually, Matt pulled away. He gave Wade a weak smile.   
  
“You’re good,” Wade said gently. “You’re doing a good job here. People are trash, but the work you do is necessary and important. But also... you should probably look into that TV thing. That totally sounds like a stunt that Scotty would pull.”

***

“Want to try explaining this to me?!”

Pete winced and clutched his mocha tighter, eyes trying to focus on the holoscreen Tony had slapped down on the table in front of him. And, ok, he couldn’t really say that it was  _ too early  _ for this, seeing as it was almost 10:30, but he had just gotten up and his brain wasn’t awake yet. He was running on a few days of bad sleep, bad even for him. He’d struggled to fall back asleep after waking up to Matt being gone two nights ago, and then last night Matt and Wade had come back to the apartment late and basically destroyed each other. Not that it wasn’t fun to watch… it absolutely was… but they’d collapsed onto the bed afterwards and… well… he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t felt a bit jealous. He got it. He did. Making up for lost time and all that. But still... Add to that the fact that he was burning out his brain working in Tony’s lab -  _ and why aren’t I taking advantage of the summer break?  _ He couldn’t help but think. _ I should be resting and recharging with a margarita in one hand and one of my boyfriends’ dicks in the other…  _ He paused for a moment, a faint smile ghosting across his lips as he imagined the three of them on a tropical island somewhere, Matt and Wade both shirtless and in too small swim trunks, taking turns rubbing sunblock onto his…

“Earth to Peter Parker!!!”

Pete shook himself out of his daydream and focused again on the information in front of him. It took a moment for his brain to process that this wasn’t about the hyper-kinetic energy particles he’d been working with in the lab, and was instead a Daily Bugle article about Hammer Industries and their new legal team. “I don’t get it,” he finally said, looking up at Tony. “Hammer’s got some new lawyers. Why do I…”

“Did you read the names?” Tony asked.

“I… No.” He scanned the article again, frowning when he realized that the information he was looking for wasn’t actually in the article, but in the caption under the large picture front and center… meaning he probably hadn’t needed to read the whole thing. “Alec Wright, Holden Halloway, and… oh.”   
  
“Yeah. Oh.” Tony glared at him.

“What does it say?” Matt asked softly, his hand coming to rest on Pete’s thigh. 

“It’s uh… It’s Maki Matsumoto.” Pete placed his own hand over Matt’s and squeezed gently. “She’s working for Hammer now.”

“Oh.”

“ _ Oh? _ ” Tony repeated, indignantly. “ _ OH?  _ Is that all you have to say about it? I thought you were the eloquent one in the group, devil-boy. This looks bad, Pete. No matter what happens next, it looks bad. Hammer already put out a press release suggesting that Octavious was framed; that I abused my power as an Avenger to take out a competitor. If there is even a hint of Iron Man going after Matsumoto when she’s working for Hammer…”   
  
“We get it, Tony.”   
  
“Do you?” Tony snapped at Matt. “Because I don’t see you doing much of anything to fix this problem that  _ you  _ made.”

“Tony,” Steve chided from across the room.

“No. Don’t  _ Tony  _ me. Look, I know we’re all drunk on forgiveness and second chances these days, but actions have consequences, and sometimes it feels like I’m the only one who recognizes that fact.” Tony’s voice was elevated. Agitated. 

“He’s right,” Matt said, standing and interrupting whatever Steve was about to reply. “You’re right, Tony. I’m sorry. I made this mess, and I should be doing more to fix it. I want to be doing more.”

“You can’t…” Pete started, but Matt held out a hand to stop him. 

“There’s always something,” he said, shaking his head softly. “Thank you, Tony. I appreciate your honesty, as always. I’ll do better.” He squeezed Pete’s shoulder and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “I’ll see you back at the apartment after work, and we can go over some options.”

“Matt…” Pete tried to reach out to him, but Matt shook him off. 

“It’s fine. Everything is fine. I have to go meet with a client. I’ll see you at home.”

Pete watched him exit onto the elevator, then sat silently until he was sure Matt was completely out of earshot before turning to glare at Tony.

“What?” The billionaire looked up from making a smoothie.

“Was that absolutely necessary?” Pete demanded.

“Was what…? Oh, you mean PJ Masks? He’s fine. He said so himself. Plus, he also thanked me.”

“He’s not fine.”

“Eh,” Tony waived off Pete’s concern. “He’ll get over it. I’ll make him a present.”

“Tony…”

Tony pointed at him. “Don’t you dare ‘Tony’ me. And don’t you have a job? I seem to remember you having a job. Which I pay you for. In addition to letting you live, in my tower, free of cost, and also feeding you. Along with  _ both  _ of your boyfriends. So maybe go do your job and stop bothering me, got it kid?”

“I’m not a kid,” Pete muttered at the same time, scooping up his coffee and biting back everything else he wanted to say, instead disappearing onto the elevator. It wasn’t worth arguing about. Tony only got that defensive when he knew he’d messed up. Still… He only hoped Tony hadn’t done too much damage. One thing was certain: He needed to come up with a plan for dealing with Lady Bullseye before Matt decided to take matters into his own hands. Again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did someone order up a slice of domesticity with a heavy scoop of angst on top?
> 
> The moment between Wade and Matt was heavily influenced by this piece of art from [Devilpool-art](https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/devilpool-art) on Tumblr, which is also currently hanging on my office wall. I love them. 
> 
> While you're there, say hi to me too!! https://www.tumblr.com/blog/gwenpoolsaesthetic


	29. Twenty-Nine

_ Have you ever been to a really good horror movie? Not the kind where things jump out at you and make you scream, but the kind where you wake up in a cold sweat, weeks after, when you realize… oh god. They really weren’t saved, were they? They ended the movie thinking they were ok, but nothing they do matters. They’re all going to die anyway. _

_ No?  _

_ Maybe that’s just my swiss-cheese brain.  _

_ Anyway, this was like that… Like sitting at an old drive in movie theater, watching the screen, wanting to scream out at that one stupid idiot who always goes outside by himself, even though we all know that you’re not supposed to investigate the noise. Investigating the noise is what gets you dead. Just leave the fucking noise alone and stick your head under the covers and hide. Cower in the closet. Listen to that one weird townie. Don’t hold a seance. Don’t go in the fucking basement! Do not go camping by the pond where those kids disappeared that one time after prom. Never say ‘I’ll be right back,’ or ‘everything’s going to be fine,’ or ‘they seem friendly,’ or ‘I’m sure they just need help.’ And whatever you do, for the love of everything sacred, do not have sex!!!! _

_ Wait. What was I talking about? _

_ Oh. Right. It was like watching a movie. Like I was sitting up high on a building, watching the scene beneath me unfold, unable to act or do anything at all. _

Daredevil walked into the clearing. It was dark - the moon and stars covered by a thick layer of clouds. In the distance, thunder rumbled low and ominously. 

_ [You build that dramatic tension, writer lady!] _

“You won’t blame me if I don’t believe it’s really you,” Lady Bullseye said, her voice drifting out from the darkness. “Not after the last stunt you pulled. That was clever, truly. To plan your escape and bring down Doc Ock in one move. I was impressed. But not again.”

A small black box sailed across the clearing. Daredevil reached out his hand and caught it.

“A short range EMP pulse,” Lady Bullseye explained. “Push the button. If you’re who you say you are, you have nothing to fear. On the other hand, if you’re another LMD…”

Daredevil pushed the button. Nothing happened. He threw the box back to Lady Bullseye.

“You’re back in red,” Lady Bullseye said, stepping away from the building as more thunder rumbled. No lightning, though. Wade could barely make her out in the darkness - the bright white stripes of her costume little more than a dull grey. “That supposed to mean something to us? Do you think that means we don’t own you anymore? Do you truly believe you have a choice in the matter?”

_ We have a plan. We have a good fucking plan. We just need Matty to stick to it. _

_ [That seems really unlikely right now, all things considered.] _

_ It does, doesn’t it? _

“You think you are smart, Matthew Murdock.” Lady Bullseye spit out the name like it was a curse. “You run away and hide yourself in an ivory tower like a princess, and you think that we cannot reach you there. But we know better. I know better. You know better, too. You had to know that there was no way you could stay there. Locked up. Caged, like an animal.”

She wasn’t moving towards Daredevil. As far as Wade could see, there were no other Hand nearby. Nothing was holding Daredevil there. He just stood. Still. Listening. 

“Those people,” Maki continued. “The Avengers, the spider-boy, even the deranged mutant. They can’t give you what you need.”

_ Now hold on just one second. I mean, that seems unnecessarily cruel. Deranged? Disturbed, maybe. Disordered? Definitely. But deranged??? _

_ [Aren’t those all synonyms?] _

_ Is anyone talking to you??? _

_ [Ok, but who else could you possibly be talking to?] _

“We can give you what you need, Matthew. I can give you what you need.” Maki took a step forward towards Daredevil, who held out a hand. She stopped, appraising him. “No one understands you like I do, Matthew. The power you have at your fingertips. The need to control it at all times, afraid it will break loose. Afraid of what it will do when you can’t contain it any longer. No one who understands you would keep you locked up, away from the night. 

“Did they want you to fight them? To play at violence, as if you were a pet dog they could wear out with a nice, long walk and a new toy? How did that make you feel? Were you satisfied with their games, or did it leave you wanting more? Did your skin start to feel too tight? Did you dream of escaping the shackles they unknowingly bound you in?

“And what of the men who you claim to love? The men you suffered for, sold your very soul to protect? What have they done to ease your pain?”

_ Damn. Leave me out of this… _

“They pretend to understand you, but do they really? Truly? They hold back. Treat you as less than an equal. They don’t trust your loyalties. They doubt your commitment. I don’t doubt you, Matthew. I know where you stand. I know you stand with us, and I will give you everything.”

Thunder rumbled again. Louder this time. The night seemed impossibly darker. 

Daredevil bowed his head low as Lady Bullseye approached.

“Fisk is gone, Matthew. You saw to that. It was not my plan, but it is of no concern. I don’t need her.  _ We  _ don’t need her. With her out of the way, there is nothing that can stop us. Nothing that can hold us back. Hammer is a fool. He thinks he has control of me, but I have control of him. With his resources, The Hand can finally take control of Manhattan. We can bring order to the chaos. We can end the needless suffering of so many.”

_ [Matty’s keeping quiet.] _

_ Do you think that’s a good thing or a bad thing? _

_ [Hard to say with him…] _

“You could rule the city, Matthew. I would give it to you, as a gift. All I ask in return is your loyalty, and your love. And a promise that, when the time is right, you will help me overthrow the Hand elders, so that I can take their place.”

_ [Holy shit! Why do villains love to monologue so much?? GET ON WITH IT, LADY!!!!] _

“Norman Osborn is a bad man, Matthew, and I brought his Oscorp to its knees single handedly. I bathed their hallways in the filthy blood of the impure. You took down the Kingpin. Imagine what we could do, working together.”

_ Ok Matty. Daddy. Darkness. That’s what we needed. Just keep it together a little bit longer, ok? You’ve got this. Please… _

“Once,” she said gently, placing a hand on Daredevil’s shoulder, “you knelt for me in defeat. Would you kneel for me now, simply because I asked you to?”

_ [Moment of truth.] _

_ You can do this, Matty.  _

A tremor ran through Daredevil’s entire body before carefully, deliberately, he lowered himself to his knees. 

_ FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK _

“Good boy.” Lady Bullseye ran a hand over one of his horns. “You’re going to be so good for me, aren’t you? A perfect general. Together we will be able to accomplish anything.” She dragged a finger over his shoulders as she walked in a full circle around him, inspecting him. “I don’t enjoy this, Matthew. I hope you understand that. It does not bring me joy to hurt you - and it will hurt - but it is necessary. And you will come out stronger on the other side. Stronger than you ever imagined you could be.”   
  
She paused, standing in front of him, looking down. Daredevil didn’t raise his head. He didn’t flinch.

“Are you ready?”

He nodded once.

“Then we shall proceed.”

Slowly, Lady Bullseye unsheathed her sword. She paused… took a deep breath…

And then she ran the sword straight through Daredevil’s chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY THE NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE POSTED TOMORROW PLEASE DON'T HATE ME!!!!!!!
> 
> But feel free to yell at me here, or on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/gwenpoolsaesthetic). It is both allowed and greatly appreciated!


	30. Thirty

Silence rang out through the clearing. There was nothing. No breath. No pulse. And then…   
  
“Jesus Fucking Christ, lady. Right through the heart? What in the goddamned hell???” Wade reached up, grasping the Daredevil mask with one hand and pulling it up off his face while simultaneously clasping the handle of the sword and pulling it out of his chest. He stood, swinging the sword around a few times as he rose, the blade slicing quickly through the air, before pointing it at Lady Bullseye’s neck. He grinned. “Hey gurl hey!!! You fucked up.”

Lady Bullseye paused for just a moment, the shock of what had happened washing over her, before moving lighting fast and clasping her hand around the hilt of her knife.

The pause was long enough.

From the darkness, streams of webfluid hit her, binding her hands and legs together. She stumbled but managed to keep on her feet. “You don’t stand a chance. My foot soldiers…”

“You mean these guys?” Pete, in full Spider-Man garb, stepped out of the shadows. He had two Hand soldiers easily slung over his shoulder, which he dumped casually at her feet. An arrow stuck out of one of their backs. “Suxamethonium chloride,” Pete explained, pulling out the arrow and letting it clatter to the ground. “Shouldn’t kill anyone, not that it matters to you. But it knocked everyone out pretty efficiently. The rest are...” he gestured vaguely around them. “Pretty sure we got them all, but I’m not especially worried about any we missed.” He stepped closer, practically into Lady Bullseye’s face. “Guess there’s a reason your bosses wanted Daredevil to lead the army for you. You were scary on your own, but you can’t lead a team for shit.”

“Don’t worry,” Wade said, patting her patronizingly on the head. “Some people just aren’t management material.”

“More will come for me!” Lady Bullseye spat out, bordering on frantic. “The Hand are legion…”

“Yeah, yeah…” Another voice joined in, a woman this time, and then Misty Knight stepped out of the shadows, the gun in her metal hand pointed at Lady Bullseye. “But here’s the thing… there’s no action on any of the scanners. Your ninja freaks are stealthy, I’ll give them that, but generally speaking we’d have seen  _ something  _ from them. Some kind of movement.” Misty shook her head. “No, I don’t think they’re coming. I think they’ve abandoned you. If I had to guess, I’d say you’ve caused them too much trouble and they’re cutting their losses.” 

Lady Bullseye was shaking with rage. “I’ll kill you,” she growled, straining to break free of her restraints. “I’ll kill all of you!”

“Threatening a police officer?” Misty tisked. “I’ll add that to your list of charges. Maki Matsumoto, you are under arrest for the attack on Oscorp headquarters, and the resulting death of thirty-two Oscorp employees. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say, can and will be held against you…”

Matt tuned out the rest of Misty’s speech and turned his attention back towards Wade, who was still pointing the blade of the sword at Lady Bullseye’s neck but had moved closer to Pete. Their arms were pressed together, and Matt could feel Wade as he slumped slightly, allowing Pete to hold some of his weight. Blood gushed from his chest and his back, soaking through the costume where Lady Bullseye’s blade had run through him. He rested, letting Pete support him, as Misty read Matsuko her rights, and by the time she was being led to the heavily armored police van, Matt could already hear Wade’s body knitting itself together. His heartbeat was still faint and irregular, but it was getting stronger. The blood that soaked the suit was now starting to cool. The wound had totally healed over. 

He listened to Wade’s breathing. It hurt. He knew it hurt. Wade had warned him that it might be hard to listen to, had asked him not to listen, but Matt knew he owed Wade at least that. He owed Wade so, so much more, but for now all he could give him was the decency to listen - to hear and feel the pain Wade went through, sacrificing himself to fix Matt’s mistake… People confused his abilities all the time; it wasn’t that Wade didn’t feel. It wasn’t that he couldn’t be broken. It hurt Wade just as much to get stabbed in the heart as it hurt anyone else; the only difference was Wade had to deal with it after the fact. When Matt cut his finger, the finger kept hurting past the moment the cut occurred. If Matt got stabbed in the heart, it probably wouldn’t hurt very long at all because he’d be dead. Wade, on the other hand, had to live with that pain as he healed, plus the added pain of healing which Matt knew was even more than Wade let on. The least Matt could do was face it.

Matt was crouched on a rooftop a block over from where Wade and Pete were standing. He wasn’t close enough that he’d be able to help if Lady Bullseye tried to make a break for it. He was listening for more Hand soldiers - and Misty was right when she said no more appeared to be on their way - but if he did hear them he wouldn’t be able to get a message to anyone in time for it to be useful. He was dressed in all black, face hidden beneath his mask, but he had explicit orders not to leave his post unless he was at risk of being discovered. 

It made sense. The case against Matsumoto was open and shut; he’d overheard the District Attorney talking about it the other day. They had footage of Lady Bullseye leading the attack on Oscorp - they just needed to catch her and bring her in. Using Deadpool in a fake costume was one thing, he was a known chaotic agent, but if Daredevil was there - the real Daredevil - it could raise too many questions. It could hurt the case. Staying put was the best thing he could do to help the others, and to help himself. 

But that wasn’t why he was still there, perched on that rooftop. That wasn’t why he’d stayed still as Maki had perfectly telegraphed her movements, had given full warning for what she’d been about to do, and then had followed through, driving a sword through Wade’s chest.

He had stayed there, still, unmoving, unhelping, because that was what Pete had asked him to do.

Pete, whose thumb was brushing over the back of Wade’s hand, trying to help him through the pain he didn’t want to admit he was feeling. Pete, who had cracked jokes with Misty, even as Maki threatened his life. Pete, who smelled like fresh air and silk. Pete, who had tried so hard to lie when he’d left Matt on this rooftop…  _ I know you’ll stay. I’m sure of it. Even when it’s bad, I trust that you’ll stay here and let us handle it _ … Pete had wanted to believe that Matt would stay out of the fight, but he hadn’t truly believed it. Still, he’d trusted Matt even though it went against his instincts, and Matt was going to earn that trust.

He was going to do whatever it took to earn that trust.

Even if it meant listening to Wade die.

Matt felt his legs begin to tremble and he wrapped his hands around his shins, rocking back onto his heels slightly, trying to calm the pounding in his head.  _ It’s over. It’s over, and everyone is ok. Wade is ok. He’s ok. He’s ok…  _ Matt repeated the words to himself like a mantra, losing track of time, letting the words  _ he’s ok he’s ok he’s ok he’s ok,  _ roll over him, fill his brain, become his entire world.

Because he wasn’t fine. Matt knew he wasn’t fine. He’d heard the blade slice through the heart of the man he loved. He’d heard Wade die, his body cease functioning, his cells begin to shut down. He’d heard the man’s final gasp, knew it was one of pain, felt that final shudder go through Wade’s body.

And yes, Wade was alive. He always would be, in the end. His heart healed and started beating. His lungs filled with air. His cells began to regenerate. His broken body knitted itself together again.

But tonight…  _ and maybe every night after that, please, if I’m lucky,  _ Matt prayed to the God that he hoped hadn’t yet abandoned him… he knew his fingers would trace over a brand new scar on Wade’s body, directly over his heart, and he wouldn’t be able to avoid the fact that he had caused it.   
  
He didn’t move when he heard heavy footsteps approaching, or when he felt electricity crackle over his skin. “How do you fare, my friend?” Thor’s voice boomed through his entire body. He sat down next to Matt with a grace that belied his size. 

“I didn’t know you were coming.” Matt was thankful that his voice didn’t sound as broken as he felt.

“The Spider-ling requested my presence,” Thor explained. “Your moon is bright tonight, and he was rightfully concerned that the Lady Bullseye would recognize the differences between your jawline and that of your indestructible lover.”

Matt wanted to clarify that Wade wasn’t indestructible, he just was good at putting himself back together again, but he didn’t have the energy. 

They were emptying the clearing, several large police vans having arrived to take away the Hand soldiers that Clint had brought down with his poisoned arrows. Pete hadn’t even hesitated to ask Clint for his help - a thing that Matt would have struggled with for days - but had simply shrugged and replied “he’s our friend,” with the smile that always made Matt feel three degrees warmer. 

Pete and Wade stayed close to Misty, making sure no there were no further attacks as the Hand soldiers were moved, and Thor stayed close to Matt… Matt wasn’t sure if he was under orders to keep Matt where he was or if he was simply being social. Matt hoped it was the former; he knew he wasn’t very good company. Still, Thor seemed to be content sitting quietly next to him, leaning back on his elbows, as if he were watching the stars. His body was relaxed, at ease, peaceful even, in stark comparison to Matt who was still perched up on the balls of his feet, ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice. 

When Pete and Wade joined them on the roof, Thor embraced them both in turn and then said his goodbyes, and Matt still wasn’t sure why he’d stayed. 

“You did good,” Pete said. He settled himself close on Matt’s right, while Wade plopped down gracelessly on his left. Matt envied them. How relaxed they were, with each other, with themselves, with everything that had happened... As if Wade hadn’t just died.

“I didn’t do anything,” Matt grumbled. 

“We know daddy.” Wade smiled and leaned his head against Matt’s shoulder, doing his best to snuggle close despite their awkward positioning. “And we know how hard that is for you.”

It wasn’t enough. Matt knew it couldn’t be enough - not like this - when there was no way for him to wrap his arms around Wade, to really feel that he was ok, that he was solid. He forced some of the tension out of his body and leaned back to sit, turning towards Wade and pulling him between his thighs, drawing him close so his back rested against Matt’s chest. Pete slid in behind Matt without a word, wrapping his legs around the outside of both of them, bringing one hand to rest on Matt’s hip, the other to clasp at Wade’s hand. 

It was a bit awkward - probably would have made more sense the other way around, with the biggest of the three on the bottom instead of the top - but it didn’t matter. Pete was strong enough to support their weight, and this way Matt could feel the rise and fall of Pete’s chest and feel the warmth of Pete’s hand on his hip. His nimble fingers quickly worked open the latches and buckles that held Wade in the Daredevil suit and he ran his hands across Wade’s chest, eventually splaying one hand wide over Wade’s heart, feeling the regular rhythm as it beat under his palm. Finally, finally, Matt was able to relax fully, allowing his weight to collapse back, trusting Pete to catch him.

“I’m here.” Wade lay his hand over Matt’s. “Feel. My crotchety, jet black heart is still beating in there. I’m ok.”

_ He’s ok... _

Pete was nuzzling into his neck, and Matt allowed himself to be lost in the sensation for a moment, before he replied to Wade. “You shouldn’t have had to do that.”

Wade shrugged, and the movement rucked Matt’s shirt, exposing a small patch of skin on his side which Pete’s hand found immediately. “I don’t know, Matty. I’ve died for a lot dumber reasons.”

“Doesn’t mean you should have to do it for me.”

Wade hummed softly. “Think you’re confusing ‘have to’ and ‘want to,’ daddy. If I can help you out, make your life better, and all I have to do is not flinch... Figure I’d make the same choice every day if I could. Plus…” Wade clambered up to a crouch, moving swiftly, turning around, pushing Matt’s legs together and then straddling his thighs as he kissed him hard on the lips. “Maybe I like the idea of you owing me one.”

“Think I owe you way more than one.” The words, along with any protest Matt had left inside him, were lost to Wade’s mouth as it closed around his own. Wade was demanding. Possessive. He nipped at Matt’s lower lip and licked along Matt’s teeth, and when he pulled away Matt practically whimpered at the loss.

“Want to take this somewhere a bit more private?” Pete asked, as he trailed a hand down the side of Wade’s face.

Wade leaned around Matt and kissed Pete softly through his mask. “Only if you carry me.”

“What?” Pete laughed. 

“You heard me. I just got  _ stabbed,  _ baby boy. Through my fucking _heart._ I’m all weak and pathetic. Plus, now if you don’t, Matty’ll feel like he’s got to and you know I’m real heavy. He’ll throw his back out doin’ it just to prove he can.”

“I can though, if you want. I can handle it, and it’s my fault that you were…”

“SEE!” Wade cut Matt off, gesturing at him with a big swoop of his arms. “Our boyfriend is an idiot. You need to carry me. For his sake!”

Pete shook his head, still laughing. He pried up the bottom edge of his mask and kissed Wade, followed by Matt who craned his head back to reach. “You two are a bunch of menaces. Alright fine.” Pete gave the two of them a gentle shove, causing Wade to stand and offer a hand to Matt. 

“Up we go, “ he said, as he pulled first Matt and then Pete up to their feet. “And then up I go.” Pete turned and Wade climbed up onto his waiting back, wrapping his arms around Pete’s chest.    
  
“You ok to swing?” Pete asked as he turned back to face Matt, adjusting his mask down over the bottom of his face.

“I’ve only got the batons,” Matt said sadly, patting the pocket on his thigh.

“Oh!” Wade exclaimed, and Matt could feel Pete grimace as Wade shifted on his back, never unclasping his legs from around Pete’s waist. “Here. This was with the suit when Tony Stank dropped it off.” Wade held out his hand and Matt could feel it before he even touched it. The metal hummed, yet seemed to deaden the space around it. Time stopped, and Matt felt the air slide around his hand as he reached out to catch the billy club that Wade had casually tossed at him. 

He vaguely heard Pete and Wade talking (“Tony Stank is a terrible pun.” “Baby boy! How can you say that? It’s in the movie!!” “The… what?”) as he spun the metal club around in his hand, twirling the bar through his fingers, feeling its balance, its weight, the way it seemed to encounter no resistance as it passed through the air. 

He’d say it was unlike nothing he’d ever experienced before, but that would be untrue. It was like exactly two things he’d experienced before: Steve’s shield, and Bucky’s arm.

“Is that…” Pete began, finally paying attention to what Matt was holding.

He nodded, mouth feeling suddenly dry. “Vibranium.”

“Wow.”

Matt’s thumb brushed over the release and he pressed it, instinctually, feeling the club pull apart to reveal the thin wire connecting the two halves. It was smoother than any of his previous clubs had been, and Matt suddenly wondered if Tony had felt the need to create something even better than what Doc Ock had made him, just to prove he could. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I am ok to swing.” 

Pete grinned at him, and ran towards the side of the building, giving a shout as he leaped off the edge, web fluid shooting out to catch at a neighboring rooftop. Matt couldn’t help but smile as he followed.

“You’re going the wrong way!” Matt shouted out, as he caught up with Pete a few swings later. “The tower’s in the other direction!”

“Not going to the tower!” Pete shouted back, and Matt grabbed his wrist as they landed on a rooftop. 

“What do you mean we’re not going to the tower? You know I’m not supposed to…”

“Yeah yeah, I know. But… I mean, everybody’s gone, right? I mean Tony and Steve and Bucky and Rhodey and Sam and Nat… they're all in Wakanda. The tower is practically empty. Nobody would know if we didn’t make it back tonight. I just thought…”

Matt squeezed Pete’s arm tighter as the realization of where they were struck him. “I don’t want you to get in trouble. Not on my account.”

“How about on my own account, then? Come on… You did good today. You deserve to go home. We all do.” Pete smiled sheepishly, then took off running again. “Last one there has to wake up first and go get breakfast!”

In the end, Pete beat Matt to the rooftop of his apartment building by an embarrassing margin and Matt didn’t mind in the slightest. The next morning, when he walked to the nearest bodega to get eggs and bacon and coffee, all he could think about was the way they’d made love the night before. Not rough and aggressive like their usual couplings - or thrupplings as the case might be - but something else. Something new. He could still feel Pete’s hands on his skin, soft but unbelievably strong, fingers digging into his shoulders as Matt slowly buried himself in Pete’s body, nose pressed into his neck. Pete’s legs had been wrapped around Matt’s waist, squeezing so tightly that they’d left bruises, while Matt rolled his hips and whispered into Pete’s ear, words he’d always believed himself incapable of, words that he now felt like shouting to random people on the street.

_ “I love you. I love you so much. You’re so perfect, Peter Parker. I need you. You make me a better person. I don’t ever want to be without you.” _

Pete had barely been able to gasp out “love you too…” before his body was tensing and shaking all over and, when he clenched down as he came, Matt was helpless not to follow. 

Matt rolled off of Pete, lying on his side and drawing the younger man close in his arms, their foreheads pressing together. And this time, when he curled into Pete and pushed his ass out at Wade, he knew exactly what he was doing.

Wade had already had his mouth on Matt and his fingers in him, before Matt’d fucked Pete, so it didn’t take Wade much time at all to get him ready and they both moaned once he was pressed up close to Matt’s back. Wade hooked an arm under Matt’s leg and held him close, grinding into him more than thrusting. With his arms wrapped tight around Pete, and Wade’s arms wrapped tight around him, and their warmth bracketing him on both sides, Matt had felt like he was floating in a way much different than the subspace he was sometimes fortunate enough to reach. That was isolation - his senses shutting down and allowing him to feel nothing. This was the opposite. Matt could feel everything. He could feel the gentle possessiveness of Wade’s hands on his body. He could feel the tenderness in Pete’s fingers as he brushed the tears off of Matt’s cheeks. He could hear both of their heartbeats, smell both of their skin, feel the press of kisses on the back of his neck as Wade stilled and then pulsed inside of him.

_ “I love you,”  _ Matt had slurred out as a wave of peacefulness washed over him.  _ “I love you both so fucking much.” _

Now, Matt was grinning ear to ear, holding his cane lightly, tapping it in front of him. With a grocery bag slung over his shoulder and the rising sun warming his face, he hurried back home to make breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't gotten a chance to respond to the comments from the last chapter yet, because I wanted to get this posted! But I love you all. Watching everyone's angry comments roll in yesterday was just absolutely thrilling and brought me so much joy. Thank you all for reading!!!
> 
> So there is just one more thing I need to get in... which... for those of you who know what it is... "one more thing to get in" is the right way to phrase it, I suppose. Not sure if that will be in the next chapter, or if it will take a little extra prep time to get there... 
> 
> ANYWAY...
> 
> KISSES!!!!


	31. Thirty-One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: EXTREME FLUFF ALERT!!!

Pete leaned back against the wall lazily and watched the scene in front of him. Matt’s fingers were against Wade’s throat, working the black piece of fabric around his neck, knotting it precisely, adjusting it until it lay exactly the way he wanted. He stepped back, gesturing for Pete to appreciate his handiwork. 

“How does it look?”

Pete smiled. “It looks good. You both look real nice.”

If someone would have suggested to Pete a week ago that he had formalwear fetish, he would have shot that right down. He liked his men ready for action - take that whichever way you wanted. But now, looking at Matt and Wade, both looking impeccable in their tuxedos, Wade’s bowtie having been perfectly sculpted by Matt’s talented fingers, he was starting to think he should be more appreciative of things other than red leather and Kevlar. 

Not that there was anything wrong with red leather and Kevlar...

“You’re next,” Matt said, moving towards him.

Pete kept his eyes on Wade as he lifted his chin to give Matt’s hands more room to work. Getting here hadn’t been easy. It still wasn’t easy most days. But he could see that Matt was doing better, holding himself gentler, allowing himself to take pleasure in the little things, in soft touches, in kind gestures. He’d kept his promise and had been attending therapy, in addition to talking to his priest, as well as a nun who Pete had been stunned to learn just three days prior was Matt's mother… and, well that explained some things for sure. Now that Lady Bullseye was off the street, they’d been going out most every night. Often enough for the bulletin to start referring to them as the Red Team Menace. It was good. Things were good.

“Keep staring like that, and I’m gonna get an even bigger complex thinking about how you like me better this way.” Wade’s voice cut through Pete’s thoughts.

“Hush,” Matt said, smoothing out Pete’s finished bowtie and moving again to stand next to Wade. “Nobody’s thinking that. In fact,“ he ran his fingers down the side of Wades face. Pete was impressed when the photosynthetic veil didn’t flicker all. “I kind of hate it. It feels weird. Tingly.“

They hadn’t asked for the mask. Hadn’t even considered it. But when Natasha had brought it up as a concern… unfortunately, it had made sense. The public knew Wade Wilson was Deadpool. Plenty of people were still convinced Matt Murdock was Daredevil. Add in a third, Spider-Man sized person at an event where Avengers were expected to attend and… yeah… Pete knew he could kiss his own secret identity goodbye. 

“You don’t have to look at my ugly mug every day like Petey-Pie here.”

“I like your ugly mug.” Pete walked over and wrapped one arm around Wade’s waist, interlacing the fingers of his other hand with Matt’s. He inspected Wade’s face. There were no images of Wade before the experiments - Wade had destroyed them all - but Jarvis had scanned his bone structure and designed the mask to look as much like his ‘old’ face as possible. “This version is alright too, I guess. I mean, you were attractive, sure. But in kind of a generic way?”

“Generic!” Wade craned his neck to look at himself in the mirror. “Baby boy, I was the most devastatingly beautiful man alive, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. And I can safely say that, seeing as neither of you had been born yet.”

“I don’t know.” Pete kissed Wade on the chin. The mask didn’t feel tingly to him. He couldn’t feel it there at all. “You look kind of like a poor-man’s Ryan Reynolds to me.”

“A poor...! Seriously? How dare!!” And then to himself, “No, we are not going to tell him. That would just be confusing!” 

Pete kissed Wade again, then turned and kissed Matt. Moving his hand from Wade’s waist to his arm, he steered both men until they were in front of the bedroom mirror.

“Do we look ok?” Matt asked. 

Pete breathed in deeply, his mouth suddenly feeling very dry. “Yeah, Matt. Yeah. We look good.”

They did, too. They looked really good. Tony had outdone himself, and Pete’s tux fit perfectly. Classic black with a white shirt and black bowtie… he felt a bit like James Bond. Ok, he felt a lot like James Bond. Fine, he might have whispered “Parker, Peter Parker” while shooting finger-guns at himself in the mirror earlier, before blushing bright red when he remembered that Matt could definitely hear him. Matt’s tux was similar to Pete’s, except the buttons on his white shirt were black and the white of his cuffs didn’t show at the bottom of his jacket sleeve. (And yeah, Pete was wearing Spider-Man cufflinks. It was fine. He was an adult.) Matt’s jacket seemed to be a bit more fitted, too, or maybe it was just the way he was built compared to Pete. It was tight across the shoulders and cinched in at his waist and, where Pete felt like a spy, Matt looked like a model, casually glamorous behind his red sunglasses and perfectly scruffy five o’clock shadow. Wade had gone for something a little less traditional - a soft black velvet jacket with shiny lapels. His bow tie was also black, but he had a red pocket-square peeking out of his coat pocket. Pete had definitely undersold how attractive he was, not wanting to add to Wade’s self-consciousness about his own appearance. The man was gorgeous. It was still Wade - the same cheekbones, the same soft brown eyes that crinkled when he smiled - but his skin was smooth and golden, his hair was chestnut brown and just a little wavy, and his beard was trimmed close and greying just a little at the temples.

It was making Pete feel things. 

Like…  _ Maybe Matt wasn’t the one who should be getting called daddy  _ type things...

Matt hummed happily as he pressed his nose into Pete’s hair. 

“What?”

“Oh, sorry.” Matt pulled away slightly at Pete’s question. 

“No, it’s fine. Just… what are you smiling about?”

Matt blushed. “You smell good when you're happy.”

“Christ on a Cracker! That’s like some A/B/O level weirdness, Matty.” Wade steered them away from the mirror and towards the kitchen. “Come’ere, baby boy. We’ve got another present for you.”

“Another…” Pete followed gladly where Wade’s hand in the small of his back was leading. “I’d say it was too many and you shouldn’t have but…”

“I’d know you were lying.” Matt grinned at him. “And I’d totally call you out on it.”

“I love presents.”

“And we love spoiling you, Webs. Besides,” Wade grabbed Pete around his hips and hoisted him up onto the counter top, “it’s not every day that the youngest member of your triad turns 21.”

There had been presents. There had been a lot of presents. The morning had started with breakfast in bed, followed by a stream of presents throughout the day. Flowers and chocolates from Matt. A Pikachu plush from Wade (which he didn’t totally understand because they’d never talked about Pokemon, but it was still cute and Wade seemed to really like it when Pete snuggled it). A big basket of expensive bath products from Wade and a silk robe from Matt (which was easily the softest thing he’d ever touched but was also very likely the most hideous pattern to have ever existed - a teal background with big green leaves and bright neon yellow bananas. Like… why?). Matt got him a signed, first edition of  _ Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief _ (“FUCKING HOW?!?!?!?” “I have a friend with a bookstore and connections. She owed me a favor”). Wade “liberated” a bottle of scotch from Tony’s private collection. 

Which was all to say that there had been enough presents that Pete should probably have felt bad about it when he kicked his feet against the kitchen cabinets, reached out his hands, grabbed at the air, and shouted “gimme!!”

Matt laughed, moving around them, opening the fridge, and pulling out a bottle of sparkling wine. He pulled down three champagne flutes, placed them on the counter next to Pete, and then opened the bottle with a loud pop.

Some of the bubbles poured over his fingers, and Wade leaned down and licked them off.

“This isn’t the good stuff,” Matt admitted, brushing off Wade and pouring into the glasses. “I mean, it’s good. I like it. But I’m sure it’s nothing compared to what Tony will have at his fundraiser tonight.” He handed Pete and Wade a glass each, and then raised his own. “Happy Birthday, Pete. My life has improved exponentially since I met you, and I know Wade feels the same. I’m not sure what either of us did to deserve you, and I hope you never figure out that you’re way out of our league.”

“Here here!” Wade agreed, raising his glass and clinking it against Matt’s. “Also, Yellow would like to personally thank you for touching our dick, and for letting us touch yours.” 

“Any time, Yellow.” Pete grinned and took a sip. 

“I’m also thankful,” Matt said, as he slid between Pete’s thighs and kissed his lips, tasting the sparkling wine off of them, “that I don’t have to pretend not to notice anymore when Wade slips you a beer.”

“I would never!!!” Pete clutched his chest in mock outrage.   


Matt rolled his eyes. “You did last night!”

“I’m still confused as to why you want to go to a stuffy party on your twenty-first birthday,” Wade admitted, changing the subject.

Pete shrugged. “Pepper asked if it was ok before she planned it. I knew they had been looking for the right date for a while, and there are always a lot of people to plan around so I didn’t feel like making a fuss. Plus, I’m sure if I would have planned a big party, the world would have ended and I would have just had to cancel anyway. Besides, you know I don’t really like to drink much anyway. I don’t see that changing now that I’m 21.”

“Good.” Wade drained his glass and poured himself a second. “Don’t be like us.” He hip-bumped Matt, who was finishing his first glass as well.

“I got so wasted on my 21st birthday. Some random guy went out of his way to help me home. He was super nice, but by the time we’d got back to my dorm I had totally forgotten who he was and why he was there, so I decked him! When he asked me how a blind guy had such good aim, I couldn’t think up a good excuse so told him I was a wizard. He asked which house. I told him I was a Gryffindor. He told me he was a Slytherin. I’m pretty sure we fucked, and then the next morning he was gone. I’m still not totally convinced I didn’t imagine the whole thing.”

Wade laughed. “On my 21st birthday, I was living in Japan working for the CIA - this was BC, by the way. Before Cancer. I’d been hooking up with this chick named Sazae. Feisty piece of ass. Hell of a chef. Ruined me for Ramen. All that trendy shit these days… no. It’s terrible. Anyway, we drank so much shochu that we decided it would be a good idea to adopt a puppy and get married!”

The other two men stared at him.   
  
“Huh.” Wade thought for a moment. “We should probably look into that, actually. I can think of at least three women who might still think they’re Mrs. Wilson.”   
  
“I know a lawyer who could help you with that, pro bono.”

“But is he also pro-boner?”

Matt shook his head. “That was terrible. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

“I’m not, though.” 

“Hey!” Pete interrupted. “Not to make today all about me, but today is literally all about me and I was told there would be more presents!”

“Greedy,” Wade admonished him with a smile, and then his eyes went wide. “Actually, that reminds me of something. Daddy...” he turned to Matt. “Remind me to talk to you later about Petey-Pop being greedy.”

“I’m sorry. What, now?” Pete was suddenly very serious. “What are you talking to him about later?”

“Nothing, baby-boy. Don’t you worry your pretty little head. Now, where were we? Right. Presents! First, something little from me... and this is actually for all of us.”

Wade ducked behind the counter and pulled three packages out from inside a cabinet. He placed one in front of Matt, handed one to Pete, and held on to one himself. He nodded at Pete. “Go ahead, open it.”

Pete tore open the paper and pulled out a red t-shirt, with a picture of a bear on it. Under the bear were printed the words ‘Baby Bear.’ He looked at Wade questioningly.

“Now you,” Wade prompted Matt.

Matt slid his fingers under the tape and carefully opened up the package. Laying the shirt on the counter, he drew his fingers across the image and words. “Daddy Bear?” he asked out loud.

Wade giggled and pulled open his own package which contained a third shirt, this one printed with the words ‘Mama Bear.’ Pete squealed. “I love them!!”

“I don’t get it,” Matt questioned, tracing the designs on the other two shirts. “Doesn’t this imply that Pete is our kid?”

“Just shush, Daddy. Don’t be a grumpy bear,” Wade admonished. 

Matt made a face and then set the shirt aside, but Pete knew better. Matt would totally wear the shirt. He’d wear it because Wade bought it, and because he knew that wearing it would make Wade happy. 

Wade knew it too, if his manic grin had anything to say about it, forcing Matt to try to make an even grumpier face, which he was quickly losing control of.

“Here,” he said, hiding his smile by pulling a small box out of his back pocket and handing it to Pete. “One more. From both of us.”

Pete froze, eyes wide, staring at the small box in his hand. It was wrapped in gold metallic paper, and it made a small rattling noise when he shook it, and it was CLEARLY A JEWELRY BOX, and Pete was maybe having a bit of a panic attack.

“Hey.” Matt put a hand on his knee. “It’s not a big deal, ok? Nothing too serious. Just something little.”

Right. Because Matt could totally tell he was having a panic attack. Pete forced himself to take a deep breath and, with trembling fingers, he peeled off the wrapping paper and opened the box.   
  
“Oh…” It was a necklace. Two flat, silver disks hung on a black and silver braided chain. The smaller disk looked faintly religious and showed the outline of a man leaning in a broke-down doorway with a spider web behind his head. The larger was engraved with a winged woman holding a torch in one hand and a wreath in the other.  _ Nike, _ Pete thought, as he tilted the image back and forth, watching how it reflected the light. _ The goddess of victory.  _ Around the edges were the words ‘amor vincit omnia.’

“Love conquers all,” Pete said softly, drawing his thumb over the words. He switched, looking at the smaller image again, and held it up. “Who’s this?” he asked, before realizing Matt probably couldn’t tell what he meant and clarifying, “the one who isn’t Nike?” 

“St. Felix of Nola,” Matt answered, as Pete pulled the long chain over his neck and carefully slid the necklace inside the collar of his shirt. “I don’t mean to overstep. I know that’s my religion and not yours it’s just…”

“No,” Pete interrupted, pressing his hand over where the pendant hung cool against his skin. “I love it. It’s perfect.”

“He’s the patron saint of Spiders, Petey-Pie.” Wade hopped up onto the counter next to Pete. 

“No?” Pete looked in disbelief from Wade to Matt. “That’s really a thing that exists?”

Matt nodded, taking his cue from the other two and sitting up on the counter as well. “Maggie told me about him, after meeting you a few weeks back. She helped me get the necklace made, too. She figured out who you were right away.”

“She’s a smart lady,” Wade said, as he reached behind Pete’s back to lay a hand over Matt’s. 

Matt took a deep breath. “I have one more thing.”

“Hey what?” Wade exclaimed. “We agreed the necklace was the big present. No fair! Now I’m going to look bad!”

“No, you won’t. It’s not that at all. It’s not… Fuck. It’s not even really a present. It’s more of a choice? You know what, never mind. It can wait until another time. I just…”   
  
“Well now you have to.” Pete knocked his shoulder against Matt’s, then took the champagne glass out of his hand, refilled it, and handed it back to him. “For confidence.”

Matt took a large gulp. “Ok. Well… So, you don’t have to answer this now. Or ever if you don’t want to. I just… and this is for both of you, I guess. Maybe it’s just for me? I don’t know...”

“Out with it already!” Wade teased. 

Matt huffed out a breath, pulled an envelope out of his inside coat pocket, and handed it to Pete. 

Pete opened the envelope. It held two keys, and a piece of paper. He handed the keys to Wade, then pulled out the paper and unfolded it. 

“Matt... This is your lease?”

“Yeah.” Matt swallowed hard. “I mean, it really doesn’t mean anything, and I know that. Fisk’s trial is going to take months if not longer. It’s just…” He shook his head. “I wanted to give both of you a key that very first morning, when you woke up all sweet and confused, and Wade made us coffee and you were both wearing my clothes... I wanted to keep you there forever, but I knew it was too soon. And then I fucked it all up. I’ve wasted so much time...”

“Daddy…” Wade tried to interrupt, but Matt held up a hand to stop him.

“You are welcome there any time you want. I know it’s small. It’s nothing compared to this place. It only has one bathroom and the hallway regularly smells like curry and there isn’t anywhere to put a trampoline, that’s for damn sure…” Matt dragged his hand through his hair, making it stand on end. “Alternately, my lease is up at the end of the month. I don’t have to renew it…”

“NO.” The force of Pete’s voice surprised himself, and he took a moment to calm himself down. “No, Matt. That’s your home. You’re not giving it up.”

“I want to be wherever you are. Both of you. I want us to be together.”

Pete laid a hand on his arm. “And we will be. Matt, your apartment is small, but it felt more like home than this place ever did. Living in the tower is fun, but it’s like living in a hotel. It doesn’t feel real. We were only here because it was easier than finding something else. And cheap.”

“I’m living here because it pisses off the Iron Dickwad. I don’t give a fuck about cheap.”

Pete rolled his eyes.

“No, baby boy. You know I’m loaded, right?”

“I’m sorry, you’re what?”

“Loaded. Rich. Fabulously wealthy. Rolling in it. I mean, it’s all dirty money, but yeah. I’ve got bank, son.”

“How did I not know this?” Pete asked, crinkling his nose.

“I don’t know. You don’t read enough comics?”   
  
“I don’t… what?”   
  
“Nothing. Never mind. Anyway, money’s not an issue. We can go wherever we want. But Darkness, you can’t move to the tower full time. What are they going to call you then? The Devil of Midtown? No. Absolutely not. Not on my watch.”

“You’re not cancelling your lease, Matt, and that’s final.” Pete folded the paper back up, slid it into the envelope, and handed it back to him. He took one of the keys out of Wade’s hand and slipped it into his pocket. 

Matt took another sip of his champagne, and Pete could see the tension drain from his shoulders as he tucked the lease back into his pocket. Pete watched as he started to say something, then lowered his eyes and bit his lower lip, changing his mind. “Is it about that time?” he asked instead. “Should we head down?” 

Pete smiled at Wade, both men knowing what Matt was holding back. “Do you want to try to say it a different way?” Wade asked.

Matt huffed out a laugh. It was something his therapist had been working with him on; reframing negative thoughts, focusing on what he was happy for and not what he did or did not  _ deserve.  _ And Pete wouldn’t push - he knew Wade wouldn’t push - except Matt had explicitly asked for them to push. He’d asked for their help, and that in itself had been something special all on its own. “I’m thankful to have both of you in my life,” Matt said, glaring at them over his sunglasses as if daring them to try to get him to share more.

Wade laughed and patted his head. “Good boy.” 

“Stop it.” Matt swatted Wade’s hand away playfully. 

Pete sighed happily, then slid his hips closer to Matt’s and rested his head on Matt’s shoulder. On his other side, Wade scooted closer and wrapped an arm around Pete’s waist, threading his hand between their bodies and bringing it to rest on Matt’s thigh. 

“Shouldn’t we go?” Matt asked again, more quietly this time.

“In a bit,” Pete replied. “There’s no rush.” The fundraiser would be fun - Tony’s parties always were - but Pete was content to arrive more than fashionably late if it meant not having to let this moment pass any sooner than was absolutely necessary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are a lot of visuals for this chapter that I would like to share... Find me on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/gwenpoolsaesthetic) for pictures of our boys being handsome in tuxes. 
> 
> For Pete's necklace, I used Tom Holland's actual necklace as inspiration. His seems to have a ring on it, but I feel like it's a little too early for that...
> 
> Nike, Goddess of Victory:
> 
> And St. Felix of Nola who is, in fact, the patron saint of spiders. Apparently he was hiding from some Romans and spiders built a web across a doorway, concealing him and saving his life...
> 
> As always, please let me know what you think! Your comments give me life!


	32. Thirty-Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This amazing art does not deserve to be buried at the end of the fic. Please please PLEASE check out [Deadpool-Art](https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/deadpool-art) on Tumblr and show all the love!!!! 

**THIS CHAPTER IS CURRENTLY UNDER CONSTRUCTION**

I realized that this chapter was, at best, an example of all my white privilege hanging out and, at worst, racist. Unfortunately, due to life commitments, I cannot edit it right now. I also cannot allow it to remain. I take full responsibility for my previous poor choices, and I will continually strive to do better. Thank you for everyone who took the time to educate me. Until I am able to write a replacement chapter, please enjoy the amazing art from Deadpool-Art


	33. Thirty-Three

Matt’s hand was gentle and warm in the small of Pete’s back as he led Pete onto the elevator. They didn’t worry about being seen. Tony had opened up the extra guest rooms in the tower to interns and celebrities alike, wanting to be sure nobody was driving home drunk, so the three of them could slip behind the sliding doors without raising an eyebrow and then trust Jarvis to shuttle them discreetly to the higher floors. 

Pete wasn’t sure what he’d expected, exactly, when the doors slid shut. Maybe a repeat of their first time? Hands and bodies on him immediately, pressing him into the wall, demanding, hungry.

This wasn’t that.

After the Jake Gyllenhaal incident - and Pete still couldn’t believe that he’d not only met Jake Gyllenhaal, but that he’d interacted with him enough for there to  _ be _ a Jake Gyllenhaal incident - his boyfriends had gotten a lot more physical with him. Nothing inappropriate. Nothing that would have bothered Tony, had he been able to escape Pepper’s watchful glare for even a moment, just constant, gentle, possessive touches. 

Matt’s hip bumping his own as they stood next to each other to sample whatever new treat was being passed around the hall. Wade’s hand lingering as he plucked an invisible piece of lint off Pete’s jacket. Knees pressing together under the table. A thumb brushing against his wrist.

Now, back in their apartment, Matt’s touches were featherlight as he brushed a strand of hair out of Pete’s eyes, running his hand across Pete’s forehead and down the side of his cheek before letting it drift back to his side. “How do you feel?” he asked, a soft smile dancing across his lips and crinkling his eyes. 

“Alright,” Pete replied, legs feeling much shakier than they had any right to be, considering nothing was happening.

“How much did you drink?” Matt asked.

Pete blinked at him, a bit taken aback by the question. “Not a lot. The glass of champagne in our apartment. Another at dinner, but that’s it.”

Wade hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe just a small glass of scotch, then.”

Matt nodded his agreement.

Pete looked between the two of them, then laughed nervously. “What, are you trying to get me drunk or something?”

“What? Of course not, baby boy.” Wade opened his arms and Pete slid into them without hesitation. “Not drunk. Just relaxed, ok sweetheart?”

Pete squeezed Wade tighter, burying his head into the older man’s chest. He suddenly felt clingy - needy - in a way that he wasn’t used to. Something was clearly happening and he didn’t know what. He trusted Matt and Wade completely, but still. Being outside the loop. Not knowing what was going on. He felt off balance, like his knees were going weak, like the world was spinning, and he gripped onto Wade’s arms for support.

“Hey… shh… baby boy? What’s wrong?” Wade ran his fingers through Pete’s hair, petting him softly. “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want…”

“No,” Pete interrupted, forcing himself to look up at Wade’s face. His wrong face… “Can you take that off? I think it’s upsetting me.”

“Oh… yeah, of course Petey Pop.” Wade’s fingers hesitated over his own neck. “You sure? You could enjoy this for a bit longer if you want.”

Pete shook his head. “No. Please. I need to see you.”

“Sweetheart…” Wade smiled down at him, and then he was pulling off the photostatic veil and Pete felt himself immediately relax as he stared up at Wade’s familiar features. He must have made a face, because suddenly Wade was laughing, his brown eyes lighting up. “I don’t think I’ll ever get over the way you look at me, Webs. Like I’m something someone would want to see.”

“Oh, Wade…” Pete wrapped his arms around his neck and pulled him down into a long, deep kiss. When they finally pulled apart, Wade’s pupils were dilated and Pete was breathing heavy. Wade’s fingers dug into his hips where they were holding him close, and Pete couldn’t help grinding against him, just a little, feeling the way he was starting to chub up in his tuxedo pants.

“Not yet, baby. Ok?” Pete could see the struggle on Wade’s face as he let go of Pete’s hip and took a step back, and he was sure that Yellow was giving him an earful. “We can do whatever you want tonight. If you want to strip down and have some perfectly vanilla sex where Matty and I take turns loving on you until you cry, we can totally do that. But… we did have something else in mind for you so… if you wanted… I mean, we were thinkin’ maybe it could be a surprise but if you don’t want that or you’re not feeling up to anything we don’t have to…”

“Hey,” Pete kissed him on the jaw. “I want whatever you had planned. I think I just missed you and everything felt weird and I don’t want to drink Tony’s scotch because it’s gross.”

Wade laughed again. “No scotch for you, then, baby boy.” He brushed their lips gently together. “Alright, well.. if you want, and only if you want, you should go meet up with daddy in the big bathroom. He should have your bath all ready.”

“My… my bath?” Pete stuttered, and something in his mind screamed at him that he should be able to figure out what was going on, but he couldn’t place it. “Alright…” He backed away slowly, keeping his eyes on Wade, questioning. 

“All you gotta do is say Jersey, and we’ll stop and tell you exactly what’s happening, ok? Or stop. At any point. We just wanna make you feel good, sweetheart.”

Pete nodded and walked down the hallway. He paused outside the door to the trampoline room for a brief second, before Matt popped his head out and grinned at him. “You ready for me?”

He let out a shaky breath and Matt’s grin widened. Pete knew that Matt was assessing him; gauging his reactions - the rate of his breathing and his heart, an increase in his blood pressure, the change of the temperature of his skin. 

It wasn’t fair.

Matt looked so fucking good.

He’d taken off his jacket and untied his bowtie, the thin black fabric of which was still hanging around his neck. He’d rolled up his sleeves and unbuttoned the top three buttons of his shirt, putting the cross he wore around his neck and his thin undershirt on full display. Strong muscles and the tips of scars peeked out from under the white fabric. Water, presumably from the bath had splashed onto his chest, making his shirt translucent in places. 

Pete licked lips, and Matt laughed. “Let’s get you out of these stuffy clothes.” 

His hands began to move across Pete’s body, guiding him further into the room while pushing off his jacket. Matt folded the jacket carefully in half and hung it over the edge of the trampoline, before leading Pete towards the bathroom while at the same time undoing his bowtie and unbuttoning his shirt, and Pete had to take just a moment to appreciate how Matt could walk backwards just as easily as he walked forwards. 

And of course that made sense. Matt certainly didn’t need to  _ look  _ where he was going. Still, Pete - who felt like he was constantly tripping over his own feet - allowed himself a moment to marvel at the graceful way Matt moved him until he was positioned exactly where Matt wanted him to be. 

The oversized tub was almost completely full of water and decadent fluffy bubbles, and Pete could smell a faint touch of lavender in the steamy air as Matt slid Pete’s shirt off. His fingers lingered on the skin of Pete’s arms and Pete sighed happily as Matt nuzzled into his neck. 

“You feeling alright, Pete?”

Pete nodded, feeling somehow both sleepy and energized at the same time. 

“Let's get you feeling even better.”

Matt’s hands traveled down the sides of Pete’s torso, grasping the hem of his undershirt and pulling it up over his head. His new necklace rattled against his chest, making him shiver. 

“We’ll put this somewhere safe,” Matt said softly, pulling the chain up over his head and laying it carefully on the bathroom counter, before returning his attention to Pete. 

Pete’s hips jerked forward when Matt fingers brushed against the front of his pants, and Matt chuckled darkly. “Yeah, I know. We’ve got a long way to go before we’re ready for that, though.”

Pete whimpered. 

“Hey, it’s ok…” Matt soothed him, as he unbuttoned Pete’s pants and pushed them down his hips. “Just relax. We’ll take care of you.”

Pete tried to listen. He tried not to focus on his throbbing erection as Matt got him the rest of the way undressed and helped him into the tub. He tried not to stare as Matt disrobed, climbing into the enormous tub after him, turning off the water as he settled. He tried not to grind against Matt as Matt pulled him into his lap and settled him there, strong, knowing hands massaging his back and shoulders, hips and thighs. When Wade came in, holding a small glass of brown liquid, Pete tried not to crinkle his nose at it.

Wade laughed. “It’s not scotch; I swear.” 

Pete looked from the glass to Wade suspiciously. 

“It’s not!” Wade insisted, holding out the glass. “It’s amaretto. Try it. I bet you’ll like it.”

Pete took the glass and smelled it before taking a small sip. Wade was right. It was sweet and warm and he tried not to think about how soft and boneless it made him feel. He tried not to think about Wade sitting there, now clad only in his boxer-briefs, and how good he looked, and how his eyes were so dark and so focused on Matt and Pete in the tub. He tried. He really did. 

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Matt pushed him forward a little urging him up. “You take a shower now, ok Pete? Rinse off real good for us, do you understand?”

Pete nodded.

“Good.” Matt helped him to his feet and Wade helped him out of the tub. Matt released the drain as Wade moved Pete to the oversized shower. 

“You ok to stand on your own?”

“Yes,” Pete huffed at Wade. “‘M not that far gone.”

“Sure you’re not, baby boy.” Wade grinned at him. “You want help in the shower?”   
  
“I can do it myself.”

Pete washed as quickly and carefully as he could, trying not to think too hard about the promise implicit in Matt’s request to  _ rinse off real good.  _ He was still half hard and he didn’t know what was next, so he tried not to work himself up any more than necessary. Still, by the time he was wrapping himself in the oversized, fluffy towel that had been laid out for him, he was definitely ready to go. 

He stuck his head out of the bathroom door and peeked around at the empty room. That made sense. They’d been so careful with him; he hadn’t suspected that trampoline time would be next. Still, Pete couldn’t help but feel a little bit curious (and a little bit nervous) as he padded barefoot down the hall towards their bedroom. 

Matt was lying naked in the bed, rolled onto one side, his head resting comfortably on his hand. He reached out with his free arm and Pete went to him easily, dropping his towel and crawling into the bed next to him. Matt wrapped his arms around him, warm and strong and possessive, and Pete surrendered happily when Matt’s mouth claimed his own, pushing him onto his back on the bed, climbing over him, caging him in. 

And yeah, Pete knew he was stronger, but why would he fight when Matt was surrounding him, licking into his mouth and kissing down his jaw, teeth scraping against his neck before moving back up to nip at his lips. “God, you taste so good, Pete. So soft. I love you so much.”

Matt was moving again, trailing kisses down Pete’s chest and abs, hands moving lower, grabbing at Pete’s shins and pushing them up so his feet came flat to the bed. Out of the corner of his mostly closed eye, Pete saw Wade step forward and drizzle lube into Matt’s hand.

Even though he knew it was coming, Pete still gasped when Matt’s finger came to gently circle his hole, breaths turning to wimpers turning to groans as Matt pressed a single finger into the first knuckle. 

“That’s it,” Matt encouraged, pushing into his body. “Gotta hear all those sweet sounds, Pete. You can’t hide them from me. I need them.” 

Matt worked slowly, carefully, opening Pete up with one, then two, then three, then four fingers, until Pete was trembling with, shiny with sweat, cock neglected and drooling on his stomach. “Please,” he begged. “Please, Matt. Please. I need it. Need you.”

“No,” Matt shook his head. “You’re not ready yet.”

“I am. I am, I am, I am.” Pete was babbling. He knew it. He couldn’t stop. “I’m ready, Matt. I’m so ready. Please fuck me. Please. Please.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes! Oh, god yes. Please. Please, I’m dying. I need it. Need you.”

Matt seemed to consider him thoughtfully, and Pete couldn’t take it. “Please!” he begged again, tears starting to stream down his face. “Please, please, please, what do you need me to say? I’m ready. I promise I’m ready. I’m past ready.” It didn’t make sense. Pete had never felt so open before.

Matt smiled at him. “Alright. If you’re sure you’re ready…” He pulled out his fingers carefully, and the emptiness was almost painful. Kissing the sob off of Pete’s lips, Matt held onto Pete securely and rolled over, taking Pete with him, until he was lying on his back with Pete straddling his waist. 

Pete didn’t wait for permission. He reached behind himself to find Matt’s thick cock, lined it up with his hole, and pressed back. It was perfect. It was everything. Pete let out a long, soft moan as Matt slid into him with no resistance. He paused for just a moment when his ass hit Matt’s pelvis, closing his eyes and bracing his legs, steeling himself to bounce on Matt’s cock, to give himself exactly what he needed, when he felt Matt’s hands grip tightly on his hips.

“Stop.”

“What? No!” Pete was crying again. He couldn’t help himself. The tears were streaming down his face at being denied when he was so close to getting what he needed.

“Hey,” Matt reached up and brushed the tears away, pulling him down into a kiss. He held Pete tight, running his hands up and down Pete’s back, soothing him until Pete relaxed enough that they were chest to chest. “It’s ok, sweetheart. We’ve got you.”

“Please…” Pete started to beg again when he felt a warm breath against the base of his spine. Pete’s eyes went wide and he couldn’t help but try to pull away, grateful for Matt’s arms wrapped tight around him, as Wade licked a stripe that he could only assume went from the base of Matt’s cock, up and across the point where they were joined.    
  
“Oh shit. Oh fucking shit,” Pete cried out as Wade licked them again. And again! And for just a moment he was able to process that he should probably be ashamed of the high-pitched whine he was making, when he felt Wade’s tongue try to poke between Matt’s cock and his rim and everything went white. 

“Shhh…” Wade was rubbing soothing circles over his hipbone and Matt was kissing the tears off of his face. “It’s ok, baby boy. You’re ok. Do you need to stop?”

Pete shook his head  _ no,  _ worried about what kinds of sounds might come out of his mouth if he opened it to speak. 

“Alright, Webs. It’s gonna be just like that time we did it with the vibrator, ok? Only I’m the vibrator. Remember the vibrator? You liked that, right?”

Pete nodded his head  _ yes,  _ felt it wobble a little on his neck as he tried to remember.  _ The time with the vibrator? Oh… Oh shit.  _ Wade had been fucking him, yeah, and just when he’d been about to come, Wade had slid a thin vibrator in next to his dick and… but that had been so small. What did Wade mean they were going to…

His entire body clenched down as Pete felt Wade slide a finger in next to Matt’s cock. Beneath him, he felt Matt shudder. “You gotta relax, Pete. You can take it. You just need to relax, ok?” His hands were rubbing the back of Pete’s neck and shoulders, combing through his hair, trying to soothe him. And Pete could see that Matt was struggling too. Beads of sweat were forming on his forehead and lips were bitten red. Pete watched as Matt pushed those lips together tightly and then took a long, deep breath. 

He tried to do the same.   
  
“There you go, baby. So good. We’ve got you. Just relax, ok?” Pete felt Wade’s finger pull out slightly, before it was joined by a second one. He tried to breathe through it, tried to relax through the stretch and the burn. He locked his eyes on Matt’s, wishing for the first time ever that he could see some response there. Get some comfort. 

Matt cupped Pete’s face with his hand. It was solid and strong and his fingertips traced along Pete’s cheek so delicately. “Watch my lips instead,” he said quietly, and then he gave Pete a small smile. 

Pete breathed out, matching the smile, and felt Wade push in a third finger. Hot tears rolled down his face.

“There you go, baby boy. Just like that. You’ve got this. You’re so perfect. So perfect, Pete. I need to be inside you now, ok?”

“Lips,” Matt repeated quietly, as Pete found himself once again trying not to panic. He felt the bed shift behind him as Wade straddled Matt’s thighs. Pete leaned forward, bringing his forehead to meet Matts, as Matt wrapped one arm around his shoulder and brought the other behind his neck, pulling him closer into a kiss that took his breath away. He drew his knees forward, bringing them almost up to Matt’s armpits, trying to cant his hips up as much as he could without risking Matt sliding out. When he felt the blunt pressure of Wade’s cock pushing into him, he bore down, trying to help as much as possible. Beneath him, Matt cursed and shook, biting Pete’s lower lip. The pressure was too much. Too intense. And for a moment Pete considered saying  _ Jersey,  _ but then Wade was sliding in and Matt’s dick was shifting to accommodate it, long and hard and with nowhere to go but press firmly against Pete’s prostate, and Pete’s eyes rolled back in his head as he came for what felt like forever.

Matt kissed him through it as he pulsed between their bodies. When Pete finally caught his breath, Matt stole it again. He moved the hand that was on Pete’s back up to his cheek, wiping away the tears, and then drew it lower, running across Pete’s chest before bringing it to settle across his throat. “We’re going to move now,” he said, as he pushed Pete’s body up slightly. 

It was a lot. It was the closest thing to too much that Pete had ever experienced. He was stretched so tight and stuffed so full, and it was possible that Matt’s hand around his neck was the only thing keeping him from flying apart at the seams. The rub of Matt’s cock against his prostate was relentless, and Pete was fairly certain he hadn’t even gone soft after coming the first time. 

He couldn’t breathe. Didn’t want to. He was overwhelmed but he didn’t want it to stop. His world had narrowed down to two dicks in his ass and Matt’s hand on his throat and the sound of Wade’s voice filling his ears. 

“You like it, don’t you, baby boy? Yeah, you do. Fuck, look at you, stretched so open. I’m gonna take a picture next time. Show you what this perfect body of yours can take.” 

And, _Shit. Next time?_ Pete wasn’t sure how he was going to survive the next few minutes, and Wade was already talking about _next time?!?_

“You gonna come again? Yeah, you are, aren't you? So good. So eager. You gonna show me and daddy how much you like it?” Wade wrapped a hand around Pete and began to stroke him in rhythm with their thrusts. 

Pete wasn’t. He couldn’t. There was no way. His body didn’t work like that. It was too much. He felt overstimulated. Pleasure and pain, and Wade’s hand on his dick was sending sparks that he could feel all the way down to his toes. It wasn’t possible…

And yet, Pete could feel that familiar heat pooling in the pit of his stomach. His mind was definitely saying no but his body… every fiber of his body… was screaming…

“Come for us, Pete,” Matt commanded, breathily, giving his throat a small squeeze.

Pete felt like his entire body was on fire as he came again. His arms shook and his legs felt like jello and his ass convulsed around the two dicks inside of him as he screamed: “Yes! Oh, fuck!! Yes! Please! Fuck!”

“Jesus,” Matt cursed as Pete fell forward. He caught him, holding him close as he picked up his pace, thrusting erratically. 

“Yeah, daddy,” Wade growled. “Give it to him. Feel so good rubbing up against me. So tight. Need to feel you come all over both of us.”

That was too much for Matt, who fisted a hand in Pete’s hair and arched his back off the bed as he came. Wade followed immediately after, as if he’d been holding on just long enough to make sure everyone else got theirs, digging his fingers into Pete’s hips hard enough to bruise as he added to the mess inside of him. 

Pete buried his face in Matt’s chest, feeling the warmth of Wade’s body caging him in. He rested there, warm and safe, trying to find his breath. And then, despite his best efforts to avoid it, he began to giggle. 

“Baby Boy?” Wade questioned. 

“Oh god!” Pete laughed harder, his body shaking with it.

“Not really the response we were going for but…” Matt petted his hair gently. “You ok?”

“I can’t believe you just did that to me!” Pete was laughing hysterically now. “You just… holy shit!”

“Was it… was it ok?” The concern was obvious in Wade’s voice as he started to pull away.

“NO!” Pete shouted, reaching a hand behind his back and pressing it down on Wade’s ass with his full Spidey-Strength, holding Wade flush to his body, keeping Wade inside him. “Don’t move. Please don’t move. It was good. It was so fucking good. It’s just…” Pete giggled again, and Matt cocked his head to the side in confusion. “I can’t believe we just did that. I can’t believe you…” He was shaking, trying to hold the laughter in. “I can’t believe I was just DP’d by DP.”

Matt snorted, and their bodies shifted causing Pete to shout and clamp down. 

“Nobody. Move.” Pete held very still, trying his best to keep a straight face. Then the giggles started again.

“Pete,” Matt said, and his voice was strained. “I don’t have super strength, or super healing, so if you ever want to do anything again, I’m going to need you to unclench, ok?”

“Oh shit,” Pete relaxed, and both men slipped out of him as he lay his head back on Matt’s chest. “Sorry. I just wasn’t ready to lose you.”

“I know, sweetheart.” Matt paused for a moment, then added, “and I hate to say it, but you’re also both really heavy.”

“Damn it, daddy!” Wade rolled off of the pile and onto the bed next to Matt, pulling Pete to snuggle between them. “Next time I’m on the bottom. Assuming you want a next time, baby boy.”

“Oh, I want a next time,” Pete agreed, as another round of giggles overtook him. “That was…” he sighed, finally relaxing, knocking his head against Wade’s chest and hooking an ankle over Matt’s calf. “That was something else. Jesus.” He was sticky and come was sliding down his swell of his ass. It was gross and he didn’t care. His eyes drifted shut as he felt a wave of exhaustion roll over him. “Best fucking birthday ever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's a thing that I've written now...
> 
> ANYWAY
> 
> This is technically the end of the story. The two chapters that remain are the mid-credit and post-credit scenes, because that is exactly what kind of nerd I am. 
> 
> You asked for it; you got it! Let me know what you thought!!


	34. Mid Credit Scene

(Six Months Later)

Matt woke slowly to the wet sounds and happy moans of Pete giving Wade a blow-job. He smiled and wiggled his toes. It was nice. Domestic, even, in a weird, licentious sort of way. 

They’d clearly been going at it for a while, if Wade was any indication. He was desperately fighting off coming, his entire body tensed, hands fisting the sheets, sweat pooling on his brow. Matt would have been impressed that he’d slept through it all, if that hadn’t started to be a more regular occurrence these past few months.

He was feeling… he wasn’t quite sure the word. Relaxed? Safe? Content? Comfortable enough in himself and his surroundings that he could sleep through the night in a way he’d never been able to before, that much was for sure. It was nice. Strange, but nice. He knew he wasn’t  _ fixed _ \- not in any real meaningful way, anyway. His therapist, Dr. Sampson, had made it very clear that depression was a disease. You didn’t cure it, but you could learn to control it and Matt was feeling close to something like control. Yeah, he still wanted the violence sometimes. The nights still called to him. But it was because he  _ liked  _ it, not because he  _ needed  _ it. Dr. Sampson was helping him realize that it was ok to like it. It was ok to want things, even if he still didn’t always feel like he deserved it.

He shifted slightly on his back, rocking his hips and feeling the bruises that Wade had left on his ass the night before. Another thing he that  _ wanted _ , not something that he deserved.

“Oh fuck, Pete. Baby-boy. Light of my life, fire of my soul, maple of my syrup. I can’t! I’m gonna… Fuck!”

Wade’s back arched off the bed, and he kicked his feet at the ankles like a toddler sitting on the edge of a pool. Matt could feel Pete holding back laughter as he clamped his hands down on Wade’s calves, trying to hold him still as he swallowed down his release. 

“Jesus, Wade, keep it down,” Pete scolded, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. “You’re going to wake up Matt.”

“Awww… So nice of you to care, but he’s already awake, sweetie-pie. He woke up right around the time you did that thing with your thumb.”

Matt heard Pete lift his head up from between Wade’s legs. He could smell the come on his breath. He felt the grin that spread across his face. “Morning, daddy.”

Matt groaned. “Don’t you start with that too!!”

“Come on.” Pete smiled harder as he clambered off of Wade and climbed up onto Matt’s legs. “You like it.”

“I really, really don’t.”

“Hmmm…” Pete palmed at Matt’s mostly hard cock. He was still naked from the night before. “Seems like you like it just fine.”

“I like  _ you _ ,” Matt clarified. “I like  _ this _ . I just don’t like when you call…” Matt was interrupted by his own moan as Pete wrapped his lips around his cock, taking him down to the root before sliding back up and off with a loud pop. 

“You were saying, daddy?” Pete asked, and Matt knew that he was blinking up at him with puppy dog eyes.

“Pete. I’m not your da…. Fuck!”

Pete hummed around his cock, taking it deep into his throat and burying his nose in Matt’s neatly trimmed pubic hair. He dragged his tongue against the vein as he pulled back off.   
  
“You’re not my what?” He asked again, with a voice that sounded like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. 

“Damnit, Pete!” Matt gasped, hips bucking up of their own accord. “You can call me whatever you want but please,  _ please  _ don’t stop!”   
  
Pete made a happy noise, then swallowed Matt back down, alternating between choking on his cock and lavishing the head with sweet kitten licks while working the shaft with his hand. Between being extra sensitive in the morning, and Pete being really fucking good with his mouth, it wasn’t long before Matt felt the familiar heat pooling in his stomach.   
  
“Sweetheart,” Matt gasped. “Pete, baby, your mouth. Oh my God…” He came with a strangled shout, hands finding their way to Pete’s head, tangling in his hair.

“Mmmm… two for two,” Pete smiled and licked his lips. “It’s going to be a good day!”

Matt reached for Pete, trailing his fingers along his cheek and cupping his jaw, before Wade reached down and snatched him right out from under Matt’s hands. “Hey!”

“My turn,” Wade growled, hauling Pete up by his armpits and manhandling him into the bed, crawling over him and caging him in with his arms. “Gonna make you feel so good, Petey-Pie.” 

“No way!” Matt hip checked Wade, knocking him to the side and crawling up to take his place over Pete. “You sucked him off last time.” 

“That’s not how I remember it!” Wade said, butting his head under Matt’s shoulder and kissing along Pete’s chest.

“That’s because your brain is full of the names of Golden Girls episodes and there isn’t room for anything else!”

Wade gasped. “HOW DARE YOU BRING MY SWEET BEA ARTHUR INTO THIS!”

“Oh no,” Pete intoned beneath them, rolling his eyes. “Two big strong men are fighting over me. Whatever shall I do?” He placed two fingers apiece on both of their chests and pushed, seemingly with no effort at all.   
  
It was hard enough to knock Matt right off the bed. On the other side of the room, he heard Wade hit the floor with a dull  _ thud. _

Pete stretched lazily, then hopped off the bed and headed towards the bathroom. “First one in the shower gets to blow me,” he said in a singsong voice. “Loser fills out my incident reports for the cops for a month!”

Matt scrambled to his feet. He was closer to the bathroom and therefore had the advantage, but he knew it wasn’t going to count for much when he heard Wade spring to his feet behind him. 

“Maximum effort!” Wade shouted, running across the bed and then jumping onto Matt’s shoulders, knocking Matt back down to the ground. “Enjoy your shitty precinct doughnuts,” he whispered in Matt’s ear, giving it a little nip before pushing up to his feet, stepping on Matt’s back for good measure.

_ Fuck!  _ Matt didn’t want cop duty. The last time he got stuck at the 29th listening to Misty talk about Sam Wilson for three hours. He had to think fast!! He started to run towards the bathroom, then came to an abrupt pause before the door leading out into the rest of the apartment. “Why is there a giant platter of tacos in the kitchen?”

“A giant platter of… WHAT?” Wade quickly did a 180, and Matt used his distraction to slip under his arm and into the bathroom, sliding into the shower and dropping to his knees in front of Pete. “Hi there.” He kissed the tip of Pete’s cock.

“Cheap shot, Murdock,” Wade grunted at him, joining them in the oversized shower.   
  
“Murdock?” Pete repeated with a laugh. “You’re in trouble now, daddy. Getting last-named and everything!”

Matt made a disgruntled noise, but didn’t complain. His mouth was too busy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no notes. Just soft boys being soft. :)


	35. Post Credit Scene

(Four months after that)

“It’s your lucky day, Matt!” Tony burst off the elevator and into the apartment where Pete, Matt, and Wade were sitting at the kitchen counter drinking their coffee. Well, Matt and Pete were sitting at the counter. Wade was sitting on the counter. All three were in various stages of undress: Pete was in his Hello Kitty pajama pants and a white tank, Wade was wearing a pair of tighty-whities and a hoodie, and Matt was only wearing a pair of black boxer briefs.   
  
Tony blinked at them. “What the hell? What’s with all the nudity?”

“I mean… it is our apartment, Tony.” Pete took a sip of his coffee. “And it’s very early in the morning. You’re lucky we’re not still in bed.”   
  
“Is it? I hadn’t noticed. And we’ll get to the apartment part in a bit. First off, the good news!” He dropped a holo-projector onto the table in front of Matt and flipped it on.

“You know he can’t see that, right?” Wade questioned from behind his mug.

“Oh. Right. Anyway…” Tony turned off the projector. “Rulings came in for Matsumoto and Fisk. It’s not being reported on the news yet - I suppose they expect a surge of crime from people looking to fill the vacuum - but I have an inside source. Both received multiple life sentences on the raft. You’re a free man.”   
  
Matt smiled up at him. “Thank you.”    
  
“Cap signed off on it and everything. You’re free to go.” Tony looked around, as if waiting for someone else to be as excited as he was. “And that’s not all you’ve won!”   
  
“Oh?” Matt asked softly.   
  
“That’s right! You’re also being evicted!!”   
  
Pete did a spit-take. “We’re what?”

“Oh yeah.” Tony turned towards him. “It’s about time, too. I figured out what the trampoline is for, Pete. You guys are nasty. Weird, and nasty, and I want you out of my house.”

“You’re just jealous because your superpowers don’t lead to super-fucking,” Wade muttered.   
  
“I am a billionaire, and that superpower has lead to a lot of super-fucking. Also, please never say  _ fucking  _ in front of me ever again. But it’s not all bad! I have a parting gift for you.” Tony pulled an envelope out of his pocket and set it down in front of Matt, who opened it, removed the thick paper inside, and ran his fingers over the raised dots.   
  
“This is… a deed?” he asked, fingers still moving. “This is the deed to my apartment building?”

“It is,” Tony confirmed. “It’s yours now.” 

“My apartment?”

“The whole building. Paid in full. Plus an extra mil to help cover renovation costs.” Tony grinned at the wide-eyed stares he was receiving from Pete and Wade. “You can do whatever you want. The place has high enough ceilings; you can gut it and turn it into a mansion with three trampoline rooms for all I care. Or, you can let your poor neighbors live there for free, bleeding heart that you are. Do whatever you want. Just do it elsewhere.”

“Tony…” Matt stood, holding the deed tightly in his hands. “This is too much. I can’t…”

“Yes you can. You’ve done a lot, Matt. We can all see the hard work you’re putting in. Just take it. I know you’re not going to evict anyone, but as they move out… make the place yours. Build a nice room for your law library. Put in a gym for training. Maybe some sort of fancy sculpture room that you can feel up on. That sort of thing. Think of it as a pre-emptive bribe. I’m sure someday soon you’ll be district attorney, or mayor, or some shit like that, and then it will be good to have you in my corner.”

“Tony?” Pete’s voice was small… questioning.

“Ah, don’t worry, kid. We’ll set you up with a smaller space here, too. Something reasonable with one bedroom that the three of you can use if you need to crash. But you don’t need all this. Go.” he shooed them with his hands. “Be free. But like… after you put on some clothes. Bunch of heathens…”   
  
Matt drew his hands over the paper again. “Thank you, Tony. Really. I’m not sure how to…”   
  
“Just take care of him, ok?” Tony said quietly. “He deserves to be happy. And keep the other one out of trouble.”   
  
Matt nodded. “I’ll do my best.”

“See that you do.” Tony raised his voice to a regular speaking volume. “And on that note, I’m off because apparently it is ‘very early in the morning’ and not ‘the middle of last night’ as I had previously assumed.” He stepped onto the elevator, only to catch the door with his foot as it began to close. “Oh yeah. You have until the end of the week to get your trampoline out of my tower before I tell your Aunt May the level of debauchery you’ve been subjecting my property to.”

Pete gasped. “You wouldn’t!”   
  
“Don’t test me, kid.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that is that. Wow. Who would have guessed, back when I started this in January, what the world would be like when I was finishing it today. Crazy times. Thanks to everyone who's stuck with it since then!! Drop me one final note to let me know what you think, pretty please.
> 
> I'm currently working on two different bang pieces, plus something for the Daredevil Exchange (plus school starts up again at the end of August, and my kids' school is going to be online again...), so you probably won't see anything new from me here for a while. But I do plan on writing more about these idiots because I LOVE THEM, so check back. If there is some bit of nonsense you want to see, please reach out and let me know. I am so very easily distracted from what I'm supposed to be doing!!
> 
> THANKS!! MAXIMUM EFFORT!!
> 
> (P.S. If you care: I'm totally making fun of Matt's actual apartment in the comics, which does have a room full of sculptures for him to feel up on...)

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think, and hit me up on Tumblr: 
> 
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/gwenpoolsaesthetic


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